Unwanted
by Freelance Ghosting
Summary: Blaine Anderson is 11 years old when his parents kicked him out. He is later adopted, but he must deal with the aftereffects of being given up. As he grows up, he learns to accept himself, his new family, and maybe love. Anderberry siblings and Klaine.
1. The Prologue

**Title: **Unwanted  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Blaine is 11 when his parents kick him out of the house. His social worker manages to find him a new home with a more accepting couple. As Blaine grows up, he deals with the effects of being an unwanted child, and how to feel loved by his new family. Along the way, he meets boy who challenges everything he knows about love and relationships.  
><strong>Author's note:<strong> I haven't written fanfiction in three years. This is just a prologue, and still needs some work, and is definitely unbeta'ed. I just had to get the idea out there so I could force myself to continue. I've seen the Anderberry craze on tumblr and wanted to find a way to try it out. I hope you like the premise!

* * *

><p>Blaine Anderson was eleven years old when he had to move out of his parents' home. No, no, that's not quite right. Blaine Anderson was eleven when his parents kicked him out of his house.<p>

When Blaine would remember it years later, he could still see his mother and father holding hands on top of the table, staring at him solemnly as they questioned him. Mrs. Lawson, his 5th grade teacher, had called. She had seen him _kissing _Jeremy Evans behind the swings during recess.

Had she made a mistake? Was she sure it was him? Had this happened before? Why did it happen? Was Blaine confused?

Blaine had still been too young to understand things like homophobia, or how to lie to his parents, so he told them that he didn't think he liked girls, and kissing Jeremy was nice.

Needless to say, that was not what his parents wanted to hear.

* * *

><p>It was difficult to remember the details, but Blaine remembered liking his social worker well enough. He remembered her frequently arguing with his parents in hushed whispers about the legality of giving up an older child—child support, forfeiting parental control, the irreversible nature of what they were doing, not to mention the psychological effects it could have on Blaine. They were all big, scary words, and Blaine was always very uncomfortable. But Nancy was a nice enough lady, a little older than his parents, but she always smoothed down his hair real nice and patted his head. She had even given him his own teddy bear to hold whenever he sat quietly in the next room while she spoke to them. Blaine's parents had never been particularly affectionate, nor had he been permitted to play with stuffed animals growing up, so he cherished these interactions.<p>

He still remembered the last day he saw them. Nancy had come to pick him up, and he had a tiny roller suitcase packed, his bear sitting on top.

Blaine had heard enough to know that he wasn't just going on a trip. He knew he had to be a big kid right now. Mommy and Daddy didn't want him.

As Nancy took his hand and led him to the car, he saw his mom and dad for the final time as they stood in the doorway. His father's eyes were hardened, though his mother's seemed a bit sad. He wanted to cry out and beg them not to send him away, but he knew that it was too late, and nothing would change their minds. He was a bad kid, and they didn't want him anymore.

* * *

><p>In her fifteen years as a social worker, Nancy Baylor couldn't remember a more shocking or heartbreaking case. Speaking to the Andersons had been like speaking to a wall. While the case was unorthodox, at times appearing to border on illegal, she knew that the best course of action was to get the poor boy out of the home. She had tried to protect Blaine from hearing the worst, but some of the things that couple said were simply grotesque. Nancy was unsure how they had ever been allowed to procreate.<p>

Seeing Blaine through the whole thing, though, broke her heart. His face on the day they left... she didn't think she'd ever be able to erase it from her mind. And after he'd been living at the home for two months, foster care began to get thrown around by other workers.

This made Nancy nervous, for obvious reasons. As a gay child, especially recently, she couldn't bear the thought that Blaine would be tormented by not just other children, but by any family he was taken in by. She had seen a great change in him over his two months at Tawny Heights. No longer was he energetic and talkative, as he had appeared when they first met—before the Andersons made it clear that they were giving him up. He had grown quiet and introverted, and didn't seem to have an easy time making friends with the other children. He played with the bear she had given him a few months before, and wrote in a little black notebook. His eyes had stopped shining, and that broke Nancy's heart more than anything.

When she contacted her friend Hiram, all she had been expecting was some advice. How could she make it easier for this gay youth in the home? And what could she expect as he moved into foster care?

What she had not expected, however, was for Leroy and Hiram Berry to begin adoption proceedings.

And that is how Rachel Berry and Blaine Anderson unexpectedly became siblings.

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for reading! I'm still very much getting the hang of this again... and this isn't exactly how I write usually. I just really needed to get the story set up, with all of the exact details of how everything happened sorted out.


	2. Shards of Glass

**Title: **Unwanted  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Blaine is 11 when his parents kick him out of the house. His social worker manages to find him a new home with a more accepting couple. As Blaine grows up, he deals with the effects of being an unwanted child, and how to feel loved by his new family. Along the way, he meets boy who challenges everything he knows about love and relationships.  
><strong>Author's note:<strong> I have never had anyone close to me go through the adoption process, so I'm really sorry if I don't get some things quite right... I've been doing a lot of research about adopting an older child, and what to expect, and how to act, so if anyone has any suggestions or problems with the way I've done it, please let me know! I also am not super familiar with how twelve year olds behave, so I've been watching videos of Greyson Chance, since he's twelve and all...

Also: I posted this chapter earlier today, but I decided it needed a little more length, so I added another brief scene. I know there hasn't been too much Rachel/Blaine interaction yet, and no Kurt, but I'll get there, I promise! Thank you for the overwhelming response I've received thus far. You are all amazing.

* * *

><p>Blaine moved in with the Berrys seventeen days after his twelfth birthday.<p>

The adoption process had been fairly quick—eight months or so—which meant that Blaine was still adjusting to the idea that he would now be living with this family. He had met Rachel, who was now nine, and he was getting more used to the idea of living with them. Anything would be better than the home.

But to say he was ready to move on from the life he had known wasn't exactly correct. He wanted to be a good boy for these new people, but it was hard to consider them his parents. Not yet. Maybe not ever. He was struggling. It seemed like nothing was ever going to feel normal. His birthday, for instance. To say it had been a happy one would be a lie. While Hiram and Leroy had come by with a cake, the shelter had strick policies about pre-finalized adoptions, and how long the perspective parents could be around. Blaine had been able to celebrate with them briefly before they'd had to leave again. So Blaine had spent his days writing in his notebook and staring at the trees behind the home.

"Welcome home," Leroy told him warmly, as he opened the front door. Blaine smiled, and nodded politely.

As they entered, Hiram gestured around the room. "So this is the foyer." Blaine took in the modestly decorated room that had a small table with some candles on it, with a bowl for keys on top.

Leroy took him by the shoulders and steered him into the room to the right, beginning the tour.

After Blaine had been sufficiently introduced to the downstairs, they brought him upstairs. They pointed out their bedroom, and Rachel's, and the bathroom, and then, they approached a room at the very end of the hall.

Blaine paused in front of the handle. "Go ahead," Hiram told him, patting his shoulder. "Open it."

Blaine felt his hand hover over the door. He knew that this would be his room, and he wasn't quite sure what to expect.

He tentatively pushed open the door, as Leroy began to speak. "I really hope you like it... I decorated a bit, and I remember you said that blue was your favorite color..." Blaine didn't see the two men exchange hopeful glances.

Suddenly, Blaine was staring at the room. His bedroom.

He looked up and smiled at both of them, and parted his lips to speak. Words hadn't come easy to him these days, so his voice sounded foreign as he whispered, "Thank you. It's beautiful."

And it was. The room was a dark blue, with his bed on the far wall. There was a bookshelf, and a desk in the corner, right next to a large bay window, with a seat built in. All the wood in the room was a dark walnut, and there were minor accents of white throughout. It looked impeccably clean.

"I... I know its not entirely homey yet, but we figured we could take you to pick out the decorations you liked," Leroy told him.

Blaine shrugged. He didn't know how to respond to that. His parents... or, his former parents? Blaine never knew how he was supposed to think about them. Well, they had never really given him much say, in decorations or anything else.

"Well, okay, we'll let you get settled," Hiram said uncertainly. "Blaine, we are so happy to have you here, we just want you to know."

Blaine's mouth went dry, and he wasn't entirely sure how to respond. "Oh. Um. Thank you very much," he said quietly, before the couple left the room and shut the door. He knew he should say he was happy to be there. Offer some other semblance of gratitude, or expression of his willingness to join this new family, but the words wouldn't form on his lips.

Once he was alone, he leaned against the back of the door, sighing heavily. After a moment, he nudged his suitcase with his foot, and unzipped it. After grabbing his notebook, he went and sat at the bay window, staring at his new lawn.

* * *

><p>Later that evening, he heard a quiet knock at the door.<p>

"Um, come in," he called. It felt foreign, as if allowing someone permission into their home. Because of Blaine was being honest, he felt no possessive claim over the space he was in. "Granting" the Berrys' entry into the space didn't quite feel right. Like they were offering him privacy he didn't deserve.

Peaking through the door was little Rachel. Blaine hadn't had siblings in his old home, and he knew that this was going to be an adjustment. But that was to be his life now, one giant adjustment.

"Hi Blaine," Rachel said quietly. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," Blaine shrugged.

Rachel entered the room tentatively, looking around and noticing how dark it was. Blaine had never bothered to turn on the light, and the sun was almost completely set. "I... I just..." Rachel approached where he sat at the bay window. She paused, and looked at him strangely. And then she threw her body on top of his, hugging him fiercely. "I'm glad you're here. I always wanted a brother, and I know that maybe you don't like us yet, or something, but I'm glad you're here anyway, and you have a really pretty face, and excellent bone structure, so I kinda think it was meant to be—" She abruptly cut herself off, and Blaine found himself inadvertently chuckling.

He patted the top of her head, and smiled for the first time in what felt like a year. "Well... thanks. This is—uh..." he wanted to tell her that it was going to take time, because he honestly believed it would, but her brown eyes were so round and hopeful that he didn't think he could stand to let her down. He settled for, "I'm trying."

Rachel smiled at him. "That's the best I can ask for, for now. But you'll love me. Everyone does. I'm going to be a star. But I'll share, for you."

Blaine felt his heart warm, and he squeezed her shoulder. "I appreciate that," he smiled again.

"Now daddy and daddy told me to come get you for dinner, so come on. We're having lasagna."

Blaine smiled, and followed her as she skipped out of the room.

He still didn't think that things would ever feel normal, but maybe he could come up with a new feeling. He was maybe willing to try.

* * *

><p>A few weeks after, Blaine had steadily come to observe the Berrys. He was still quiet, though incredibly polite. The house still had yet to feel like his home, despite the fact that the family of three was always very kind to him.<p>

Dinners weren't quiet, but they weren't exactly vociferous occasions either. There was something about this family that Blaine saw as so inherently different than the one he used to call his own. Like right now. They weren't talking, but it wasn't cold and uncomfortable... it was just... quiet. They were enjoying their dinners, peacefully in the company of people they cared about.

Blaine still felt like an intruder.

He observed as Leroy reached across the table to hold Hiram's hand, and as Hiram complemented his husband on his cooking. It was sweet, and almost too private for Blaine. His parents had kept all affection behind closed doors, and seeing these two display it so openly was so new to him.

He ate quietly, though certain to tell them both how grateful he was, and how delicious the food was.

After they had eaten, Blaine had offered to clear the table, as he would at home. At his old home. He mentally berated himself, knowing he needed to eliminate those thoughts that kept subconsciously creeping in. Words like "his old parents" and "his old home" only allowed his attachment to them to remain. As it was, Blaine was still Blaine Anderson—enough of a reminder of his old life for years.

"Here," Blaine said, collecting the plates. "Let me." The Berrys' nodded, and smiled. They had been doing a lot of reading about raising an older adoptive child, and knew it was important for Blaine to feel like part of the family.

He had successfully made one trip to the sink with all of the plates and silverware, and was returning to the table for the glasses. He grabbed two of the glasses from the table, when he noticed Rachel was washing the plates in the kitchen. He half smiled, feeling a sense of comradary, when he got distracted. Unused to the Berry kitchen, he missed that there was a slight step up from the dining room to the kitchen, and he tripped. He felt himself falling, and tried to brace himself with his elbows, but that ended up knocking the glass in his right hand clear out

It shattered.

Blaine hastily began picking up the pieces, ignoring the sharp pain of the glass pricking his skin. "I'm so sorry," he said quickly. "I'm so, so sorry."

He felt Leroy kneel next to him, slowly taking his hands. "Blaine, please, stop, it's okay. These things happen."

Blaine looked up at Leroy, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I really didn't mean to," he said. "I'll do better next time, I promise."

Leroy smoothed his hair, and stroked his cheek. "Sweetheart, it's okay if you don't. Accidents happen."

Blaine looked at the older man, and swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. Um, where's the broom?"

Hiram cleared his throat, indicating he had already grabbed a broom and a dustpan. "I've got it," he said, smiling. His face fell as he looked at Blaine. "Oh, no, your hands."

Blaine glanced down and realized he must have cut himself in the fall, and was bleeding. "It's... it's fine. It will be fine."

Leroy shook his hand, as his partner began to sweep the mess. "No, Blaine, let me go get some band-aids, and some Neosporin." He straightened himself up, and walked over to the cabinet where he grabbed a box they kept medicines in.

He sat down on the floor with Blaine. "May I?" he asked, reaching for Blaine's hands again. Blaine nodded silently, as Leroy gently cleaned the blood with a cotton ball, and then applied the Neosporin. "Does it hurt?" he asked quietly.

Blaine shrugged, trying not to show any emotion. "It's okay. Thank you."

Leroy smiled and glanced at his partner, who had finished up the sweeping. He wrapped a fresh band-aid around Blaine's finger. And then, to Blaine's surprise, he kissed the top of Blaine's head. "There, all better."

Blaine stared dumbly at his hand, and then at Leroy. "Well, um. Thanks—thank you." His face scrunched for the briefest second, and he tried to smile. "Is it okay if I go upstairs?"

Leroy smiled, perhaps a little bit sadly. "Yes, of course."

Blaine sat on the seat of the bay window that evening, legs pulled into his chest, and cried. His mom used to kiss his bandages. It didn't mean anything.

Somewhere deep down, Blaine truly believed that one day they were going to get sick of him, and send him back too. And if he kept messing up like this, breaking things, being a bad kid... it would happen. He needed to be perfect. He needed to be perfect _now_.

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><p><strong>AN: **I'm in a writing mood, so who knows when the next chapter will be posted :)


	3. The Mask

**Title: **Unwanted  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Eventual Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Blaine is 11 when his parents kick him out of the house. His social worker manages to find him a new home with a more accepting couple. As Blaine grows up, he deals with the effects of being an unwanted child, and how to feel loved by his new family. Along the way, he meets boy who challenges everything he knows about love and relationships.

**Author's Note: **I'm still not where I want to be in terms of writing this story... I just feel like there is so much that needed to be established ABOUT Blaine, and why he is the way he is, before I move into the future. That said, there is probably going to be a huge flash forward in the next chapter, so that I can get on with the story I want to tell. Thank you so much for bearing with me as I get back into the swing of writing. Also, to everyone who has reviewed, thank you SO much, they mean the world to me. I haven't gotten a chance to reply to reviews that have come in the past day or so, so I promise you will promptly be getting a reply! Merry Christmas Eve to those of you who celebrate, and Happy Holidays to the rest :)

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><p>A few weeks after the glass incident, Blaine still didn't feel any closer to his new family. Because it was summer, they had plenty of time to spend together. And the Berrys were trying, of course. They'd go places, eat dinner as a family, watch movies. They had even begun to throw around terms of endearment with him—carefully, and in moderation, of course—hoping to make him feel loved, but Blaine hadn't really noticed.<p>

All he felt was numb.

He spent most of his time sitting at the bay window, writing in his notebook. He had begun writing shortly after his arrival at Tawny Heights, when the child psychologist he had to see suggested it, and just never really stopped. It had become his only real confidant.

He was trying. He was trying so very hard. Not even really for himself, but for the Berrys. They had welcomed him into their home, he knew, which was probably no easy decision. They acted like they wanted him. But they didn't know. They didn't know he was bad.

At times he thought that maybe he could show them that he wasn't _that _bad, that maybe he could be himself, and it would be he was being honest with himself, he had to admit that he liked them, and he wanted them to like him. But when he let that thought creep into his head, he had to remind himself that he under no circumstances could be himself with these people. Because then they would see he was bad, just like his parents had.

Sometimes he would cry, but mostly he wouldn't. He'd just sit there staring out the bay window, knees drawn in, pencil in hand.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a short knock at his door. "Blaine?" It was Rachel.

"Um, come in," he called, carefully shutting away his notebook.

Rachel bounded into the room brightly. "Whatcha doing?" She pushed herself up to sit by him at the window.

"Oh, uh—" He paused. "Just thinking."

"About what?" She prodded, swinging her feet back and forth. Blaine shrugged, as he had no real answer. And certainly not anything he could share with her. "I heard daddy and daddy talking last night," she pressed on. "They're sad because you don't really say much. Did you know that? I'm sad too. All you ever say is okay, and thank you, and sorry. Did you know that?"

Blaine had felt himself growing tense, and his lips parted slightly. He opened his mouth, licking his cracked lips—and he realized he was about to apologize. Again. He had nothing to say to combat the comment, so instead chose to remain silent.

If the lack of response fazed Rachel, she didn't show it, as she barreled on with her train of thought. "And the thing is... you've got such pretty eyes, and they're too pretty to bad sad so much, and when I see big brothers on TV they're always laughing, or teasing their sisters, or playing, and you don't do that. And I'm sad for me because I want you to like me, and I'm sad for you because you're sad, and I'm sad for our daddies because—"

"Rachel, what are you doing?" Rachel was cut off by Hiram entering through the open door. He looked on in dismay between Rachel and Blaine. Blaine's face said what his voice never did—he looked horrorstruck, and sad, and vulnerable. Blaine's eyes were wide, and he flinched away from the door. Hiram's heart broke; a boy his age shouldn't even be able to form such expressions.

Rachel, legs still swinging, looked guilty. "I just want Blaine to stop feeling so sad," she said in a tiny voice.

Hiram looked at her sternly. "We will discuss this later. Go sit in your room and wait for me," he said nodding towards the door. "Go on, scoot."

Rachel hopped down the stool and nodded glumly. "Yes, daddy."

After she was gone, and the door closed, Hiram turned to Blaine. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" He asked carefully, settling his hand on top of Blaine's. "Did she say something to upset you?"

Blaine's face looked guarded, and he opened his mouth to speak. "I—um," he cleared his throat. "No sir, everything is fine. Thank you. Um, just—thanks."

Hiram's eyebrows shot up uncertainly. He knew that he couldn't exactly pressure Blaine into talking to him, but he also knew that they hadn't been making any progress the way things had been. And he hadn't heard enough of the children's' conversation to firmly know what to comfort Blaine about.

"Well, I... I am always here if you want to talk, Blaine. You're a part of this family now, and we're not going anywhere. Okay?" Hiram patted Blaine's hand, watching the boy's guarded eyes. He was still unsure where the line was between trying and pushing, and he didn't want to make Blaine uncomfortable.

"Let me go talk to... your sister." He kissed Blaine's head, as he and Leroy had begun to do every once and a while, and went to leave the room. "You know where to find me, if you need me." He gave Blaine what he hoped was a reassuring look, and left the room.

Almost immediately, Blaine could hear Hiram quietly berating Rachel through the wall. He closed his eyes and sighed, leaning his head against the window. The wall was already crumbling. Rachel could already see that he was bad. Soon, Hiram and Leroy would as well.

But if Blaine was being honest, he was beginning to get used to life at the Berry home. Getting sent back to Tawny Heights? Well, that wasn't an option.

In that moment, Blaine resolved to be the perfect son. If Rachel wanted an animated older brother, he would try. If Hiram and Leroy wanted a son, he would be perfect. He had been toying with the idea since the incident with the glass, but he knew that there wasn't much time left. He needed this.

That day, Blaine Anderson began to construct his mask.

* * *

><p>To an outside perspective, in the weeks that followed Blaine made tremendous progress. He smiled. He spent time outside of his room, away from the bay window. He had even sat down with Rachel one day to watch her sing. He was still quiet, still guarded, but at least he was trying to interact.<p>

Three weeks into this strange new behavior, the night before school started, and three and half months after his arrival at the Berry home, Blaine took another huge step to assimilate into his new life.

The family had just sat down for dinner, while Rachel was chatting excitedly about school the next day. "Now that I'm going to be a fifth grader, I'm going to be the star of the chorus," Rachel prattled excitedly. "My teacher will have to recognize how talented I am, since I'll be one of the oldest kids in school."

Leroy chuckled, and patted her head. "Of course, baby, anyone would be crazy to not see how talented you are. How about you Blaine? How are you feeling about your first day?"

Hiram and Leroy exchanged almost undetectable glances. Blaine would be starting the sixth grade, making him one of the older sixth graders. Rachel, at ten, was also old for her grade, but that was just a matter of her early birthday. Blaine's circumstances were obviously unique, and this was going to be a new step for all of them.

Blaine, as usual, considered his words carefully. "I'm... excited," he settled on, finally, effectively ending the conversation before it began. Instead, his eyes found Leroy's, and Blaine paused again. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth, chewing the corner briefly before adding, "Will you pass the salad, dad?"

Leroy's eyes widened, but if he was thrown, he didn't show it. Without missing a beat, he grinned and said, "Of course, son. I put almonds in it... you seemed to like that last week."

Blaine smiled, taking the bowl as it was passed to him. "Thank you."

Blaine, satisfied with his evening's work, was mostly silent throughout the rest of the meal. If he noticed Hiram and Leroy's unshed tears, he didn't say anything.

* * *

><p>"Okay, now, you know my work number if anything happens," Hiram told him, patting his shoulder after putting the car in park. "But I know you'll do great." Hiram's words were meant to be encouraging. For Blaine, though, they were just added pressure. What if he didn't do great? What if these kids caught on?<p>

But Blaine, carefully constructed image always in mind, just smiled. "Of course, dad. It'll be great. Thank you." He smiled again, and patted Hiram's hand. "I'll see you after school."

"Have a great day, son,"

Blaine exited the car, grateful for the distance to the school—it gave him a moment to think, and clear his head. This would be the most interaction he had with anyone outside the Berry family in months. Maybe this would be good for him; no one knew him, after all, no one knew his circumstance. They couldn't possibly know how bad he was. Or how unwanted.

But as the school day progressed, all Blaine realized was that he found it no easier to talk to these children than he had the children in the home. His teachers had all made them play ice breakers to introduce themselves, and Blaine found himself often at a loss for words.

He had nothing to say to these kids, and no way to relate to them. Instead, he picked up the mask he'd been wearing at home, and decided to put it on for school as well.


	4. Watching

**Title: **Unwanted  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Blaine is 11 when his parents kick him out of the house. His social worker manages to find him a new home with a more accepting couple. As Blaine grows up, he deals with the effects of being an unwanted child, and how to feel loved by his new family. Along the way, he meets boy who challenges everything he knows about love and relationships.  
><strong>Author's note:<strong> There was some confusion in the last chapter over Blaine's conversation with Leroy and why that was so striking to the Berrys. I guess I didn't make it clear. That was the first time Blaine had referred to either of them as **Dad**. In all of the adoption literature I've been reading, this is a HUGE step. So, yes, if that was confusing anyone, there you go. I should have explained that better, I suppose.

Also, I tried to make this chapter longer, but I guess my chapters are just short and stubby. I'm sorry!

* * *

><p>Handsome. Reserved. Well-liked. Soft spoken. Mysterious. Well-rounded. Dreamy. <em>Perfect.<em>

If someone were to ask the people in his grade to describe Blaine Anderson, those were just a few of the words they might come up with. Blaine was now a junior at McKinley High School, and while he couldn't exactly be considered _popular _(you needed to have _friends_, for that to be an option) he was definitely admired. Blaine just seemed to be one of those kids who had it all together, ya know? He was good looking, smart, eloquent. His only flaw, his peers would say, was perhaps the fact that he was related to the insufferable Rachel Berry.

His only flaw to an outside observer, that is.

If someone were to ask Blaine Anderson to describe _himself, _the answers would probably be very different. That is, of course, assuming that said person was close enough to Blaine to illicit any honest answers. And there was, of course, no such person in his life. But temporarily disregarding that fact, if they had asked, Blaine would have responded with very different adjectives. Lonely. Dirty. Screw up. Distant. Unwanted.

He had spent the last six years of his life carefully constructing an image, desperately hoping to not only please his new family, but maybe even surpass their expectations of him. It was as if he were trying to prove to them, his old family, and even to himself that he was worth something—worth not giving up on. Though he excelled in school, and was an exceptional pianist, Blaine never felt good enough. The fear of being abandoned constantly lingered, and it made it impossible for him to get close to anyone. Not to mention, he hadn't said a word about his sexuality to anyone—not even Hiram and Leroy, who obviously knew from the adoption proceedings—since that fateful day with his birth parents years prior.

Despite Blaine's secret issues with his self-esteem, however, there was one person who could go on for hours and hours about just how worthy and amazing the curly-headed teen was. If someone were to ask Rachel Berry to describe her older brother, they would have witnessed true, honest to goodness hero-worship. Because somehow, over the six years they had lived together, Blaine Anderson had managed to truly capture the affection of his younger sister. After their awfully one-sided little chat so many years before, Blaine had kept his promise to himself to become the ideal brother. He watched Rachel perform, taught her to play the piano, and even sat with her while she cried on the day of her eighth grade graduation, when Andrew Clemens turned her down for a dance and broke her heart. He protected and cared for her, and had managed to meet and surpass every expectation Rachel had had for a brother. So if someone were to ask her about him, she would have almost certainly gushed.

And it just so happens that one day, this day, someone _did _ask Rachel to describe him—and that someone was one Mr. Kurt E. Hummel.

* * *

><p>Rachel Berry and Kurt Hummel had been frenemies since the seventh grade, after Rachel begrudgingly complimented Kurt's superior knowledge of the latest revival of <em>Rent.<em> Kurt, acting self satisfied while actually being rather touched, retorted with a snarky comment about her dog sweater and how she'd never make it to The Great White Way wearing _that_, and the two had been friendly ever since. Considering that they were in constant competition for solos, and seeing as neither liked to be less knowledgeable about any and all things Broadway, show tunes, or musical theater, their relationship was often strained, and had little room to blossom into a full fledged friendship. They maintained friendly terms, but didn't go so far as to consider themselves close friends.

Well, not until the middle of ninth grade, that is.

After high school began, it was clear that Kurt and Rachel were a special brand of person, and they couldn't exactly afford to not be in each other's lives. It was a slow process, obviously, because one does not simply _become _best friends with their former frenemy over night, but by tenth grade, the two had definitely made good progress. Enough progress, in fact, for Rachel to invite Kurt over for a classic musical movie night.

Kurt arrived promptly at seven, pulling his navigator into the driveway. The house was picturesque, two stories, with a little walk way lined with forget-me-nots leading up to the driveway. Kurt approached the door, lightly rapping his knuckles.

He heard a muffled, "I've got it," and then the door was swinging open, revealing Blaine Anderson. _Oh. _If Kurt was being honest, he sometimes forgot the two were related. Blaine was older, and kept to himself. Everyone at McKinley seemed to know who he was, but no one ever talked about him. He just kind of _gushed _put-togetherness and distance. That's why Kurt often forgot about his relation to Rachel; they were just so different, and Rachel's personality was so much louder than Blaine's. The different last names didn't hurt, either.

Blaine took one look at Kurt, and held the door open a little wider, expression blank. "Rachel," he called behind him. "Your friend is here." Turning back around, he smiled briefly at Kurt and stuck out his hand. "Hi, I'm Blaine. Rachel's brother."

Kurt offered a polite smile to the older boy. "Kurt," he said, nodding his head.

The pair stood in awkward silence for a moment, before Blaine said, "You go to McKinley too, right?" The comment was a little silly, they both knew, but it _was _a big school, and they were in different grades. Their social circles—if Blaine had one at all—rarely interacted, and they had no reason to really know anything about each other.

Kurt laughed a little. "Yeah, unfortunately."

Blaine cracked a small smile, but was saved from comment by Rachel bounding down the stairs.

"Sorry, Kurt," she said, "I was just finishing organizing my room—I didn't want you to see it looking like a wreck." She then looked at her brother and grinned widely, "Have you met Kurt, Blaine?"

Blaine offered a careful smile, resting his elbow on the railing at the foot of the stairs. "Just did. You two have a nice movie night, I'm going to head up stairs."

He gave Kurt another polite nod, and that was that.

Rachel turned to Kurt and began speaking rather quickly. "I've settled on a few choices for tonight's showing," she smiled excitedly. "But first, I want to make some popcorn and grab some waters, yeah?"

Kurt gave her a disproving look at the thought of popcorn, but followed her into the kitchen anyway.

"So," he said casually, leaning against the counter, as Rachel rummaged through the pantry. "I forgot you had a brother."

"Yup, just me and Blaine," Rachel responded without taking her head out of the pantry.

"He seems nice," Kurt added. He wasn't even sure himself if he was curious or just making conversation.

"Yeah," Rachel said straightening up and turning to Kurt smiling. Her eyes were warm, and it was obvious her brother was a very "He's awesome. He is my very favorite pianist to practice with. I should get him to play for you—except, he doesn't really like to show off, so that's actual rather unlikely. He's very modest. And practical. His personality is a fabulous compliment to mine, in fact."

Kurt cracked a smile, appreciative of the fact that Rachel would end up fanning her own ego when complimenting her brother. Such a Rachel quality. "Sounds like a good guy."

There was a not uncomfortable lull in the conversation then, as Rachel went about popping the popcorn and putting it in a bowl.

"Anyway," she said, "Let me go show you what DVDs I picked out!"

* * *

><p>Nothing out of the ordinary had happened that day—it wasn't like he and Blaine had had a conversation longer than a minute, or professed their undying love for each other. Up until that day, in fact, Kurt had barely noticed him in the shuffle of the McKinley hallways.<p>

But somehow, after meeting him, it was like the universe shifted, deciding, _Oh hey, this guy is probably someone you should pay attention to. _Because Kurt was literally seeing him _everywhere. _At first, he didn't really notice. They passed each other in the halls, moving in opposite directions on the way to third period. The tree Blaine ate lunch underneath was like a three yard's away from Kurt's own table—had he always eaten there? They usually parked about two cars away from each other in the mornings. And then it wasn't just between one classes, but two or three, and suddenly Kurt noticed where his locker was, and would even see him walking out of the bathroom, just as Kurt was walking in. Kurt couldn't recall if it had always been like this, or if, for some reason, he was just suddenly aware of Blaine Anderson's presence. Sometimes they would smile politely to each other, but mostly the interactions (if you could even call them that) went unacknowledged.

And that's when the watching started.

Kurt didn't fancy thinking about himself as some crazy creepy stalker, but he had to admit that there was something fascinating about Blaine Anderson. He couldn't exactly put his finger on what it was though, and so he found himself often (perhaps unconsciously) observing Blaine. Rachel had given him some information—he was a pianist, he was modest, but really nothing jaw-dropping, or that he couldn't figure out on his own.

He knew that both of the Berry's children were adopted, obviously, but he didn't really know the circumstances around either adoption. He couldn't exactly remember, because he and Rachel hadn't been friends, really, when they were younger, but he didn't think Blaine had been with them since he was a baby, like Rachel had. And the fact that his last name was Anderson was another sign that there was something different about him.

So Kurt watched. And if he was being honest about his preliminary findings... they were... well, rather unremarkable. Blaine was quiet, and kept to himself. He was polite to teachers and administrators, often had headphones in. Sometimes he sat alone at lunch, and sometimes he sat quietly with a large group of rambunctious junior boys, looking if not out of place, then definitely different than the other boys.

As weeks went by, instead of noticing where he was and what he was doing, Kurt started to covertly watch his face. And that's when Kurt noticed.

Blaine never _really _smiled.


	5. The Sleepover

**Title: **Unwanted  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Blaine is eleven when his parents kick him out of the house. His social worker manages to find him a new home with a more accepting couple. As Blaine grows up, he deals with the effects of being an unwanted child, and how to feel loved by his new family. Along the way, he meets boy who challenges everything he knows about love and relationships.  
><strong>Author's note:<strong> Happy New Year's Eve everyone! I hope everyone has safe and happy holidays. This chapter is long for me, as a gift!

Just a reminder, if you do review I try to make sure to send replies so be sure to check that out. The feedback means the world to me. I'm still behind on Chapter 4, but what can you do? Someone asked if updates were going to be regular-and I've been doing my best, so I hope so :) Enjoy Chapter 5. As for the end, it was just a natural place to end-otherwise this chapter wouldn't have gotten up today.

* * *

><p>Kurt noticed a few other things about Blaine, in addition to his lack of smiling. That notebook, especially. Whether he was getting out of his car in the morning, sitting under that tree at lunch, or walking to class before the late bell (never rushing, never in a hurry, never a hair out of place), Blaine always had a marbled composition notebook in his hands.<p>

The first time Kurt _really_ noticed it was at lunch one day. Kurt was sitting at a table with Rachel, Finn, Mercedes, Tina, and Artie, when out of his peripherals, he noticed Blaine sitting underneath the oak tree in the court yard, with his knees drawn up, something propped up against them. His fingers, long and elegant looking, were wrapped around a silver ballpoint pen, and his face was flush with concentration. Kurt couldn't help but wonder what he was so absorbed with. Every so often, the bottom left bit of Blaine's lip would slip between his teeth, and then he would lick his lips. He looked like he was in his own little world, brow furrowed, eyes wrought with focus. It was then that Kurt realized he probably looked similarly concentrated, considering how much he'd been staring—he was entirely focused on Rachel's older brother, and he was sure he'd slipped up on his subtleness. He snapped himself out of whatever daze he was in, and tried to jump back into the conversation that had quickly moved on without him.

"And so I told Mr. Schue that I _refused _to let him get a substitute for Brad—it's too close to sectionals for us to be practicing with someone we don't trust!" Rachel was ranting about glee club, of course.

"Yeah, but Rachel, if he doesn't get a substitute, who are we going to practice with? None of us can play, because then we won't get to actually practice the routine, and we all know Mr. Schue is useless on the piano," Finn reasoned, eyebrows wrinkled at Rachel.

Rachel made a show of rolling her eyes and sighing. "Well, I know _that, _silly," she said, speaking to Finn as if he were Brittany. "That's why I told Mr. Schuester I'd ask my brother."

Kurt practically spit the water he was fountaining into his mouth out. "You volunteered your brother to practice with us?" he asked, attempting to keep the accusation (and mortification) out of his voice. Because really—how the hell would he be able to concentrate if Blaine was their _practice pianist?_ Rachel cracked her eyebrow at him, meaning he obviously wasn't successful.

"Well, we really don't have many other options," Rachel lectured, pursuing her lips, and looking disapprovingly at Kurt. "Who else are we going to get? Since Brad decided to bail last minute right before sectionals—"

"He needs to get surgery on his _gallbladder,_ Rachel," Tina said, rolling her eyes, and taking a swig of her orange juice. "It's not like he quit, or went to go work for our competition or something."

Rachel continued, unfazed by Tina's interruption, "We need _someone _we can trust to not go spill all of our secrets to the competition. We don't know if we could really _trust _a substitute—what if they have a niece or nephew in one of our rival choirs or something? That is the very last thing we need, Kurt! And Blaine is family. Who better?" Rachel gave the table a self-satisfied smile, as if she had single-handedly just saved their routine.

"Rachel, your paranoia is unparalleled," Kurt responded dryly, lifting one perfectly coiffed eyebrow. "And, have you even _asked _Blaine?" Kurt asked still praying that his tone was not accusatory, and that his face masked any stray emotions that would give him away to the younger Berry child. The last thing he needed right now was for Rachel to pick up on Kurt's discomfort with discussing her brother. He resisted the urge to glance back over to the tree Blaine was sitting under—it was too risky at this very moment.

Rachel had the decency to look guilty. "Well, not _technically_," Rachel said hesitantly. "But I mean, it's Blaine, I'm sure if I just asked very nicely, he'll come around." It was her turn to glance over at her brother now, and Kurt wondered briefly if she was as hyper-aware of his presence as he was. Kurt followed her gaze, and noticed that Blaine was in the exact same position as he had been in the few minutes Kurt had allowed his focus to be pulled. It was then that Blaine's eyes briefly flickered up and momentarily caught Kurt's gaze. Blaine looked away again, as if unfazed by the interaction, but Kurt felt his ears flame. He looked quickly away, embarrassed at having been caught. Even if Blaine barely acknowledged it.

Sometimes, when he thought about it, Kurt felt ridiculous for his new found interest in Blaine Anderson. They barely interacted, and Blaine had given no indication that he even played for Kurt's team. _Not like that ever stopped you before_, one side of his brain argued_. Yeah, and look at how those turned out, _the other side argued.

Kurt huffed, drawing the eyes of his friends, and ruffled.

"Um, do you have a problem with me asking my brother to play piano for us, Kurt?" Rachel asked, confused and with a slight edge in her voice.

"What?" Kurt asked, realizing that while he had simply gotten distracted, he probably appeared be in a mood over Rachel's suggestion. "Oh, no, sorry, it's cold out here. Why are we sitting outside in November, anyway?" He grumbled.

The subject what effectively changed, then, and Kurt hoped that the possibility of Blaine being their temp pianist was just a suggestion that would blow over, so he never had to think about it again.

* * *

><p>"So, for those of you who don't know, this is my brother, Blaine," Rachel announced, hand on Blaine's elbow as they stood in the center of the choir room. "Blaine has very generously agreed to be our pianist for the next few weeks, while Brad is <em>'on leave,'<em>" Rachel rolled her eyes at the words, which earned her a disapproving look from Mr. Schuester and many of the glee clubbers.

Kurt noticed Blaine's lips were tight, even as he offered the club a polite smile. He noticed Blaine look at Rachel uncertainly, as if she wanted him to make a speech or something. Instead, he waved, and sat down on the piano bench. "Hi." And that was that. Blaine Anderson would be a staple in the McKinley High choir room for the next few weeks, and Kurt was going to die.

Blaine sat down, and Rachel smiled. "So, I supposed that we should baptize him into how things work around here, so I've been working on a number to showcase both of our talents," Rachel stepped to her chair, where her backpack was sitting and rifled through it, while Santana rolled her eyes and muttered about arrogant hobbit genes. Rachel, as usual, pretended not to hear her, and grabbed the sheet music she had rummaged out of her bag.

"Here you go," she said, handing the music to a still mostly stoic Blaine. He eyes grazed the page, as his lips silently formed the words on top. Kurt looked at them in envy, especially as he did his lip-biting-then-licking-them-I'm-very-concentrated face. Blaine nodded at Rachel, and then began to play the opening chords of Miss Saigon's "I'd Give My Life For You."

While everyone else, Kurt assumed, was staring at Rachel and her over the top Broadway number—again—Kurt couldn't help but focus on Blaine. He found his breath hitching, and for the first time since this whole thing started, he couldn't worry about hiding his staring. Because Blaine Anderson was staring at the piano, focused, intense. His profile was serious, and every so often, his tongue would graze his lips, as the elegant fingers Kurt had been admiring not 24 hours ago stroked the ivory keys. Not for the first time, Kurt wondered what Blaine's hands felt like.

_Where is this coming from? _Kurt berated himself. He constantly had to remind himself that they had said literally three sentences to each other. There was no content, no substance. Just a few polite words between an older brother, and his sister's little friend. Ugh. Even in his mind, he was pathetic.

Rachel was wrapping up her song, and everyone began to clap politely. "Thank you Blaine," she looked at her older brother in revere, and smiled warmly.

Blaine in turn gave her a half smile and rubbed the back of his neck. Mr. Schuester spoke then. "Thank you again for helping us on such short notice Blaine. That was amazing! I'll get you some of the sheet music for songs we're looking at for sectionals, so you can get some practice."

Blaine smiled—politely, as usual—at Mr. Schue, and offered a quiet, "Thank you," before gathering up the sheet music Rachel had handed him before. Kurt had seen a few smiles from Blaine—half-smile, polite smile, distant smile—but never a smile with teeth, or that truly reached his eyes, never uncontrollable, uncontainable, smiling without abandon that warmed up an entire room. And something inside of Kurt told him that Blaine was more than capable of doing so. Kurt was desperate to see it.

* * *

><p>After glee club, Kurt met Rachel at her locker. "So do you want to have dinner at my house before you sleep over?" Rachel asked, as she rummaged through her locker. Kurt was standing next to her, leaning against the locker next to hers. Kurt could place the nervousness in her voice as she asked, and he couldn't help but wonder why. This would be their first sleepover, but he'd been over a few times. Did she think he'd say no?<p>

"Oh, sure, sounds great," Kurt said, smiling. "Thanks."

Rachel turned to him and smiled brightly, all hints of nervousness washed away. "Okay, good, I wasn't sure you'd want to—my dads are a little crazy."

Kurt chuckled, gripping the side of her locker door. "Gee, I wonder who else I know that's a little crazy. It must be an inherited trait." Rachel rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

"Will—" Kurt coughed out of nervousness, though he was pretty sure he had covered it nicely. "Will your brother be there too?"

"What, Blaine?" Rachel said, though not as if she expected an answer. "Yeah, I think so—probably. He usually is?" She pursed her lips, and look at the ceiling, like she was thinking. "Yeah, I think so. Why?"

Kurt's eyes widened ever so slightly, mentally berating himself for even asking. "Oh, I was just wondering. See the whole crazy Berry clan in action," he laughed a little, hoping his answer would be satisfactory.

Apparently it was, because Rachel mock glared at him and gently shoved his shoulder. "Oh, please, you're related to _Finn._" She then smiled at him, as if her eyes were far away—she must be thinking about Frankenteen himself. She snapped herself out of her reverie, then and asked excitedly, "You're still bringing your live copy of _The Last Five Years_, right?"

Kurt grinned, "Of course. I'm so excited. I have no idea how my dad got a hold of it for me."

"Well, I don't care how he did, I'm so excited too," Rachel smiled, and slammed her locker closed. "Be at my house around five?"

Kurt smiled, and nodded, turning away to head to his locker so he could pack up to go home. On the way, he couldn't help but notice Blaine at his locker, rifling through it, with his notebook in hand. Kurt felt his stomach flip unfamiliarly, and shook it off, scampering away to get home and get ready for the evening.

* * *

><p>Kurt gripped the steering wheel of his car and took a deep breath. <em>Breathe, <em>he reminded himself, as he lifted his head. He knew that he would see Blaine at Rachel's, but he couldn't figure out why he was freaking out so much. _You don't even know if he's gay, _Kurt reminded himself for the hundredth time. _You don't even know him __**at all**__, _that voice was louder, harsher, a little more painful to hear. He knew it was just a silly crush, and he didn't have a great track record with those, but what else was he supposed to do? _The heart wants what it wants, _another voice in his head reminded him. He sighed in frustration, and muttered, "Get out of my brain," before grabbing his bag from the back seat and exiting his car.

Kurt wandered up the same path he was growing so familiar with, and gently knocked on the door. When it swung open to reveal Rachel, he wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved. Rachel gave him a hug in greeting, "Hey Kurt," she said, pulling away.

"Sorry I'm late," Kurt said, glancing at his watch. _I was sitting in your driveway trying to bash my head into the steering wheel. _"I couldn't find the DVD in my room, and had to reorganize things to see where I'd put it."

Rachel scoffed. "Like your room is ever anything less than perfect," she muttered, giggling slightly. "But you brought the DVD, right? Otherwise, our entire plans for the evening will be ruined!" Kurt rolled his eyes at her dramatics, but riffled through his bag to show her its case.

"Right here."

Rachel's smile widened as she grabbed it from his hands to admire the cover. "Oh my god, I'm so excited. I wish we could watch it right now, but we don't have enough time before dinner. We're having ziti. My dad might be making chicken, too, I think, but I don't eat that so I'm not sure."

Kurt shrugged, noncommittally, because it really didn't matter to him. He was subtly looking around for any trace of Blaine. There were tons of photos up in the Berry foyer, but Kurt didn't know how to look at them without coming off too nosy.

Rachel turned, walking through the kitchen and into the living room, expecting Kurt to follow. "I thought we could go through a few song books and throw around ideas for sectionals until dinner," she said, diligent as always. "I've picked out a few songs that highlight my talent impeccably." Kurt rolled his eyes, but sunk down to the couch, indulging her.

A bit later, Hiram entered through the garage, brief case, and a few grocery bags in hand. "Hi kids," he said, glancing at Kurt and Rachel.

"Dad, you know remember Kurt, right?" she asked, nodding in Kurt's direction. "From glee club."

Hiram set down the items in his hands and walked over to the living room to shake Kurt's hand. "Right, of course, nice to see you, Kurt."

Kurt smiled widely at the older man. "Thank you so much for letting me stay over, Mr. Berry," he said politely. He knew that Rachel had to tell her parents about his sexuality, but he was unfazed by it. If Rachel had been clear about anything, it was how open-minded her family was.

Hiram smiled graciously, before turning his eyes back to Rachel. "Where's your brother?" he asked, glancing around the room.

Rachel shrugged, "I'm pretty sure he's upstairs. He agreed to play the piano for us, for glee club!" Rachel said, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

Mr. Berry's eyes, Kurt noticed, widened a bit, as if he was surprised. But he quickly covered his surprise and broke out into a smile. "Really? That's excellent. It'll be good for him to have some fun after school," he smiled again, before glancing at the stairs. "And has your dad called?"

"Yup, he should be home soon," Rachel said, standing up and walking to the cupboard. "Should I start setting the table?" Kurt followed Rachel into the dining room, where she had the silverware set out, and began to help her.

"I'll call your brother to help you—Kurt, you're a guest sit down," Mr. Berry started, but Kurt waved him off.

"No, sir, I don't mind helping at all."

Kurt felt his stomach clench for the umpteenth time that day, because Mr. Berry payed him no attention, and walked over to the stairs to call for Blaine. A moment later, he appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Kurt took a sharp intake of breath, and focused on his silverware sorting, just to avoid staring.

"Hey, Blaine," Mr. Berry said to him. "How was your day, sweetheart?"

Blaine smiled at his father, Kurt noticed from the corner of his eye and said, "It was nice, thanks. How was work?"

Mr. Berry sighed, "Work is work, as usual. Will you help your sister and her friend set the table?"

Blaine must have nodded, but Kurt had tried to avert his attention so he didn't see. He did, however, _feel _Blaine approach the table.

"I didn't know you were home," Blaine mentioned to Rachel casually, as he took the plates she was offering him, to put them around the table.

"Yeah, just hanging out with Kurt," she said nodding in his direction.

Kurt looked up briefly, feeling his ears heat up. "Hi," he said, knowing his voice had come out far too quietly. He felt like an idiot—Rachel would obviously know something was up. "Nice to see you again," he tried, hoping he didn't sound like such a loser. He chanced another glance up, to see if Blaine was looking at him.

He was.

"Kurt, sit down—Rachel and I have it. You're a guest." He gestured to the napkins now in Kurt's hands. His face maintained the same composed politeness that it always carried, and Kurt desperately wished he'd project another emotion.

Kurt's ears felt like they were on fire, and he glanced back down to continue folding the napkins. "It's fine, I don't mind helping, really."

He knew he must look like a loser, with some odd fascination with place settings, but it was better than being the creepy stalker who wouldn't stop staring.

If either of the Berry's children noticed anything strange about his behavior, they said nothing.

"Kurt and I are going to watch _The Last Five Years_ tonight, if you're interested," Rachel mentioned, in what sounded to Kurt like a hopeful voice. _Hopeful? _Kurt didn't know much about siblings, but weren't they supposed to fight, and not want to be around each other, and not invite each other to hang out with their friends? _Not that I mind in the absolute slightest. _

Kurt watched Blaine glance over to Rachel, her eyes wide—almost vulnerable. Kurt couldn't figure out if he was imagining it, and if he wasn't, it didn't really make a whole lot of sense.

Kurt watched the interaction between Rachel and Blaine carefully—he didn't want to appear _too _interested, after all. Kurt watched Blaine's eyes flash with an emotion Kurt couldn't place—hesitance, maybe?—before he said, "Oh, yeah, that might be fun. Maybe. When are you going to start it?"

Rachel maintained an odd level of composure—Kurt really couldn't figure out why he felt so uncomfortable in this situation all of a sudden. "After dinner, I think, right Kurt?" she looked at him, smiling without her teeth, eyes wide.

"Yeah," he agreed, unsure of what else she really wanted him to say. He looked at the table, satisfied that it was nicely set, when he heard the garage door closing, and Leroy Berry walking through the door.

"Something smells fantastic—what's for dinner?"


	6. Still Hurting

**Title: **Unwanted  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Blaine is eleven when his parents kick him out of the house. His social worker manages to find him a new home with a more accepting couple. As Blaine grows up, he deals with the effects of being an unwanted child, and how to feel loved by his new family. Along the way, he meets boy who challenges everything he knows about love and relationships.  
><strong>Author's note:<strong> At the end!

* * *

><p>It wasn't that the Berry dynamic was a cold one—Mr. and Mr. Berry were obviously very caring and affectionate towards their children. It was just so... different. So much different than the relationship Kurt had with his dad, and even with Carole and Finn, and he wasn't sure how to act. Over dinner, they discussed work and school. It was probably the most Kurt had ever heard Blaine speak, and even then it was just a few words. And then Hiram Berry brought up glee club.<p>

"Blaine, Rachel tells me you're going to be their practice pianist for a few weeks," he said, wiping his mouth and looking at his older child with kind eyes. "That's exciting."

Blaine was mid-chew. Kurt watched in almost obscene fascination as Blaine finished chewing slowly and swallowed, noticing his Adam's apple protrude slightly as he did. _God, __**I **__even think I'm being creepy now, _he chastised himself mentally. But it was hard not to be fascinated with everything Blaine did. He moved very carefully—almost in slow motion.

"Yes sir," Blaine said, smiling mildly at his father. "I've been upstairs practicing some of the sheet music on my keyboard."

"Oh, any good songs?" Leroy asked in interest, looking at his son in what Kurt could distinguish as a mix of interest and pride.

Blaine opened his mouth to speak, but Rachel beat him to the punch. "As per usual, our set list is not to be disclosed in order to maintain the element of surprise, as to maximize your enjoyment of our sectionals performance." And then, Kurt's heart practically stopped. Because Blaine laughed. Well, more like chuckled, but it was low and deep, and even if it was not a wild outpour of emotion, it was still _something,_ and Kurt was shocked. And he wanted to make it happen again. _This infatuation needs to end now, before you embarrass yourself, _he reminded his head again angrily. Unfortunately, there was no steering wheel to beat himself into this time, so he just cracked a smile at Rachel instead.

"It's your parents, calm down," he said, hoping to keep his voice even and his mind off Blaine.

"But I want them to be _surprised_," Rachel stressed, and Kurt couldn't help but chuckle himself. Rachel's parents began to laugh as well, and Kurt snuck another glance at Blaine. He was eating, still slowly, but also kind of just pushing his food around his plate. Kurt thought he could detect the mildest amount of mirth in his eyes, and inwardly sighed. _This will not end well. _

* * *

><p>After dinner was finished and cleaned up, Rachel and Kurt settled in the living room with their DVD. Rachel had just finished inserting the disc when Blaine walked in, scratching the back of his neck.<p>

"What did you say you were watching?" Blaine asked his sister, his eyebrows knitting together slightly. Kurt was still trying to put together this whole sibling mystery, and he couldn't figure out why Blaine looked so... eager? No, that wasn't it. Maybe it was? Kurt inwardly sighed in frustration, trying to convince himself to stop analyzing that which he obviously couldn't understand. That, being Blaine Anderson, usually.

Kurt glanced at Rachel, whose eyes had widened slightly. "Oh! Um, _The Last Five Years," _she said, and knowing her as well as he did, Kurt could recognize the repressed excitement. "Did you want to join us?" She was able to keep most of the hopefulness out of her tone, but Kurt could still hear it.

Blaine smiled and said, "Sure, why not?" before gracefully seating himself. Kurt thought back to how he'd sat down on the couch himself, only minutes before. For him, it was more of a slumping into the seat. He had the feeling that Blaine never slumped. _Okay, Kurt, stop. Stop this now. _

Shaking his head, continuing to mentally berate himself, he glanced at Rachel. His eyes widened again when he realized she looked absolutely elated at the fact that her brother was sitting next to her—and that made Kurt smile slightly. He wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but he was glad to see that something had appeared to go right.

The movie began, and Kurt realized that he wasn't going to be able to glance at Blaine _at all _because that would be way too obvious with Rachel sitting in between them. But that was okay, because he had been dying to see this movie for ages.

As the female lead began her opening number, "Still Hurting," Rachel's jaw dropped. "Kurt," she breathed. "You _have _to do this song for glee club. She sounds just like you—it's _perfect._"

Kurt felt Rachel's eyes on him, and more than that, _Blaine's _too. He could feel his ears heating up again and he just laughed. "Okay, Rachel, yeah, maybe I'll try it." Before she could say anything, he reverted her attention back to the screen. "This is one of the original productions—so it even has the original song about Irish Girls, instead of "Shiksa Goddess.""

Rachel cooed appreciatively, and for the most part shut up for the rest of the movie. This may be in part to the fact that she was already sobbing by the third song. Once she started, Kurt couldn't help it—even if he was really unattractive when he cried, but he couldn't help it because gosh, this musical was perfect—_And now I'm sobbing too. Excellent. _He chuckled darkly, though quiet enough that no one else heard, and hoped that Blaine wouldn't look over.

She commented once more on how wonderful Kurt's voice would be in some of the songs, all with throwing in a few cross remarks about living in Ohio, but mostly the were wrapped up in the show.

Kurt chanced just once to look over at Blaine's face—he was staring at the screen intently, obviously very caught up in the show. It was the exact middle of the story—the only point where the two characters interact. _I don't know why people leave, _Cathy sang. Geez, the whole show was stunning, but this number was really beautiful.

There was a brief flicker in Blaine's eyes, and Kurt watched as they fluttered shut. He rested his elbow on the arm of the couch, and his hand ran down the side of his face. The emotions seemed far away, and Kurt quickly looked back at the screen as to not be caught, and the moment was over before Kurt could even really process what it was.

By the end, he and Rachel were absolutely wrought with tears. Blaine's eyes, Kurt noticed, were slightly rimmed with red, though whether or not he'd ever let any tears fall was yet to be determined.

"Kurt, that was beautiful and terrible, and _oh god, my emotions_!"

Kurt sniffled, still embarrassed to be in pieces in front of either sibling, but nodded in agreement anyway. He looked to Blaine, who cleared his throat and stood up. "Good show," he commented, nodding at both of them. "Thanks. Night guys."

And without another word, he turned and walked upstairs.

* * *

><p>"Hey Rachel?" Kurt asked, staring at the ceiling. The lights had long since been shut off, but the glow-in-the-dark stars Rachel had above her bed were still shining. They had spent the evening laughing and talking about boys—more so on Rachel's part, than Kurt's, considering the only boy he'd been pining after lately was sleeping in the room next door. They discussed their futures, and the movie, and whether or not love cold ever really last. By the time they were in bed, Kurt truly realized how much his affection for Rachel had grown, and he was really glad they had become so close. Which is perhaps why he felt it was okay to ask his next question.<p>

"Yeah?" she asked in a sleepier tone than Kurt's.

"What's..." he hesitated, and shut his eyes nervously. Kurt was grateful for the fact that Rachel couldn't see him. "What's the deal with you and your brother?" There was silence for a moment, and Kurt sincerely hoped he hadn't offended her, or overstepped any boundaries.

"Oh. You noticed, huh?"

Kurt couldn't get a firm grasp on her tone, and he was getting more and more frustrated with his inability to read the pair of siblings. "Well... I guess so. I'm just not sure what I noticed."

Kurt heard Rachel sigh into the dark, and roll over to face him. "Well... it's just... he's my brother, you know?" Rachel took a breath, and Kurt could feel a revelation hanging in the air. "And I guess, sometimes, I just think... I just think that I love him more than he loves me." She paused, and there was something in her tone that told Kurt that she was kind of far away at the moment, lost in her own thoughts. Kurt wondered if she'd ever voiced these thoughts aloud to anyone. "It's one of the reasons I asked him to play piano for us—it's going to be really nice to spend more time with him."

Kurt was quiet for a minute, taking in this new information. "So, uh... you don't—you don't spend a lot of time together now?" He desperately hoped that he wasn't being too nosy or overstepping his boundaries, but he was so curious. And, of course, Rachel was his friend, and he wanted to make sure she was okay. And right now she didn't really sound okay.

Kurt rolled over to look into Rachel's eyes. They looked sad. Sadder than after she'd received her first slushie, sadder than when she'd seen Finn with Quinn for the first time. She sighed. "No, not really. He's just really... private. You know what I mean? He comes home and goes straight to his room. He buries his head in notebooks, and in his piano playing. And like... if I need him, he's there, just a door knock away. But that's the worst part—" Rachel's voice cracked, and Kurt could tell that she was probably on the verge of tears. She let her voice drop into a whisper. "How _good _he is. And how good he is to me. If I ever need _anything, _a shoulder to cry on, someone to bounce ideas off of, someone to play the piano because stupid Brad can't—he does it. No questions asked. He'll sit there, stroke my hair, pat my shoulder, be the greatest older brother ever, and I just can't help but wonder, who does that for _him_? Who does he go to when he feels like his world is going to fall apart? Because I know it's certainly not me—I'm just his stupid younger sister." She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and sniffed inelegantly. "I guess I just wish we were closer. I can't even believe he watched the movie with us today. I mean, he comes out for dinner, and he is always really sweet to me, and awesome to our dads, but its just like... like I don't even know anything about him—not really." She rolled over on to her back then, and sniffed again.

Kurt chewed pensively on his bottom lip, taking everything she was saying. He thought for a moment, and wavered again before speaking. Was he supposed to speak? Would it help or hurt? He paused, but then drew a breath. "Well, I mean, I know it's a little different, but look at me and Finn..." he paused, allowing her time to tell him to shut up or tell him to not bother trying or something, before he continued. "I know its different," he said again, "But he's my brother, or step-brother, or whatever... and we don't spend _that _much time together, and I know next to nothing about his life... but I still love him a lot. And I know that he loves me. And he's there for me when it counts. And that's what family is—and that's what matters. At least... at least, _I_ think so."

The two of them lay quietly next to each other for several minutes. Rachel seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, and Kurt? Kurt was thinking about what family meant, and what Finn meant to him, which wasn't a topic he thought about that often, if he was being honest. He may have just lied to Rachel, actually, now that he thought about it. He and Finn would chat in the car, watch movies together. But that's just how their family worked—they were all a pretty open bunch. Maybe that's what Rachel was talking about? Longing for? He could give a pretty accurate description of Finn, and the pair would sometimes even hash problems out together. It had taken them a long time to get there, obviously, but they had started to recently. As he thought about this, focusing on his breathing, and the stars that were fading on the ceiling, he found himself being lulled slightly.

Rachel was the one who broke the silence. She coughed, as if warning him that she was going to speak, or maybe to make sure he was still awake. "Hey Kurt?"

"Mhmm," he said, trying to keep the sleep out of his voice.

"Thanks. For listening, I mean."

Kurt reached for her hand under the covers and squeezed it.

As he felt himself be overtaken by sleep, he could have sworn he heard the opening chords to _Still Hurting _somewhere in the house.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Okay some important things:  
>1. I really love all of the music from <em>The Last Five Years, <em>so I hope no one found it terribly annoying or difficult to get through. If nothing else, I would recommend listening to "Still Hurting" and maybe also "The Next Ten Minutes" if you aren't familiar with it.  
>2. I really am interested in the RachelBlaine sibling dynamic, which is why its been more Anderberry Sibling oriented than Klaine. But that will change soon! All my Klainers, hope you're still with me.  
>3. HOW PROUD IS EVERYONE OF DARREN? I was in tears about his opening night, my goodness.<br>4. Today is my last day at home, meaning tomorrow I'm flying back across the country to go back to school. Updates MAY be slower now, but I promise I'm committed to finishing this story, so long as you all continue to bear with me :) As always, thanks for reading, and I hope you continue to enjoy!


	7. Suggestions

**Title: **Unwanted  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Blaine is eleven when his parents kick him out of the house. His social worker manages to find him a new home with a more accepting couple. As Blaine grows up, he deals with the effects of being an unwanted child, and how to feel loved by his new family. Along the way, he meets boy who challenges everything he knows about love and relationships.  
><strong>Author's note:<strong>

A few very important things! 1. I am really sorry for the long delay. Being in school has given me almost no time to write. I'm taking Statistics this quarter, and it's really kicking my butt. I'm taking the maximum amount of credits my university allows for a quarter, and it's just been really stressful. Also, I hate this chapter, because I'm bored with it, so I had the WORST writer's block for ages. 2. I'm thinking of rewriting the first couple chapters, because I'm unhappy with the way they came out. Please let me know your thoughts on this. 3. If you're still reading, thank you for bearing with me, with the delay especially. I love you all.

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't see any sign of Blaine the next morning before he went home. While he wanted nothing more than to think about and analyze his experiences at the Berry home, he had far too much on his plate that weekend to do so. Carole's birthday was coming up, which meant he had to assist both Finn <em>and <em>Burt in picking out presents, not to mention his Trig quiz on Monday. Every so often, though, he'd have a spare second and he would find his mind wandering ever so slightly to his Friday night. But then he'd remember it was his turn to unload this dishwasher, or that he'd promised to call Mercedes, and his attention would once again be pulled.

By Monday morning, he was confident that after his expert avoiding that weekend, he _had _to be cured of his silly infatuation. _It was just a phase, of course, _he tried to reassure himself as he drove to school that morning. _It was idle curiosity._

He didn't have to wait very long to be proven wrong.

As Kurt stepped out of his navigator that morning, he was greeted by the familiar sight of the back of Blaine Anderson's gelled head. Kurt felt his stomach tighten, and the questions he'd been repressing all weekend flutter back into his head. There was the minor curiosity that came from their different last names, but more than that, Kurt couldn't get Rachel's words about her brother out of his head—_Who does he go to? _

Kurt's day went as well as could be expected—for a Monday. His trig test wasn't even that bad. Regardless, but the end of the day, he just felt on edge. He was grumpy.

"Well, someone has a case of the Mondays," Rachel commented upon entering the choir room, and seeing the sour expression on his face.

"We can't all shoot sunshine out of our asses all the time, Berry," Santana cut in, obviously in a similar mood as Kurt. Kurt couldn't help but crack a smile at that. Before he could come up with some clever commentary to add to the discussion, Mr. Schuester bounded into the room.

"I have some exciting news!" Mr. Schue said, clapping his hands together and taking his place at the center of the room.

"You're giving the leprechauns who run your vest factory a raise?" Santana question dryly, lifting an eyebrow. _Her Monday must have really sucked, _Kurt thought, as his mind wandered back to his own start of the week.

"Everyone knows that leprechauns only accept payment in the form of marshmallows," Brittany cut in, her voice blank.

Mr. Schuester disregarded both statements. "People have been using our Sectionals suggestion box!"

The room was quiet with confused silence.

"We have a suggestion box?" Tina asked, finally.

"And people—who aren't us, I'm assuming, since it doesn't sound like anyone here knew about it—are _using _it?" Artie asked, equally surprised.

Mr. Schue looked mildly put out at their comments. "Come on guys, the suggestion box I said would be sitting outside of my office this semester? In order to provide a low-stress, anonymous format to express your ideas and opinions...?" He stopped, glancing hopefully around the room, as if his words would spark someone's memory. "No? Okay, so it's not ringing any bells. Well, I guess that's okay, because we still have some." He grabbed a plain black shoebox off of the piano that had a hole cut out on top and the word _Glee Suggestions _written on the side, and gave it an experimental shake. What sounded like a few pieces of paper fluttered about inside of it.

Kurt felt an overwhelming skepticism as Mr. Schuester lifted the lid of the box. If none of the glee members were offering suggestions, then no one was offering them. Which would mean that there was probably just a whole lot of abuse in that shoebox.

His thought process was proven correct as Mr. Schue pulled out the first suggestion. Kurt got a good look inside of the box and saw that it held four; he immediately knew that nothing good would come out of any of them.

The club waited patiently as Mr. Schuester drew out the first suggestion. Quickly, his eager demeanor changed as his eyes scanned the page, and his eyebrows furrowed together. He instantly crumpled the paper in his hand. "Okay, let's try another," he muttered, casually throwing the balled up slip over his shoulder. After the second and third "suggestions" yielded the same expression, Kurt wondered why Mr. Schue would even bother pulling out the fourth and last.

Except maybe Mr. Schuester knew something that Kurt didn't about being hopeful, because as his eyes scanned over the final slip of paper, his entire face brightened. "See!" Mr. Schuester cheered, holding out the slip triumphantly. "This is a great suggestion. There _are _people who want to help us out."

Kurt looked around the room skeptically, and saw that his friends and classmates' appeared to feel similarly. "And what would that be?" he asked dryly, glancing Mr. Schuester cynically.

"_Celebrate musicals from this millennium,"_ Mr. Schue read proudly. "See, that's a great idea!"

Puck rolled his eyes. "Like we don't already do that every day," he muttered. "Are we sure this wasn't Berry's idea?"

"I mean, I'm sure the hobbit isn't above stuffing ballot boxes," Santana commented smarmily, shooting a look at Rachel that just dripped of disdain.

Rachel looked indignant. "Excuse me," she said, swiveling in her chair to face the rest of the club. "Just because a suggestion appears to be logical and inspired, doesn't mean that _I _wrote it. Perhaps we just have a lot of admirers of true art forms who are unwilling to speak up, and would love to hear us showcase my—I mean, our musical talent, and highlight the rebirth of the American musical."

Santana looked ready to bite back with something scathing, when Kurt cut in smoothly. "If I may," Kurt said, cutting in authoritatively, "Rachel has never been able to do anything anonymously—she would crave recognition for her suggestions far too much."

"He's got a point," Finn shrugged, glancing at Rachel apologetically.

Before anyone could make any more comments, Mr. Schuester jumped in again. "I think you are all missing the point here—it doesn't matter where the suggestion came from, what matters is that we have found this weeks assignment!"

There was a minor groan from around the room from the less showtunes inclined of the group, but the grumbling was kept to mostly a minimum, particularly when Tina pointed out, "Oh, this is a good thing! Wicked and Mamma Mia are both from this millennium!" She received an appreciative coo from some of the other girls, and then Artie jumped in with, "Oh, and Avenue Q! Okay, this might be fun."

Others like Santana and Puck still looked displeased, but they were pretty much pacified at that point. Kurt, on the other hand, couldn't help but think of that weekend, and how Rachel had practically begged him to sing "Still Hurting" for the club.

After glee was over and everyone was headed to their respective cars, Kurt pulled Rachel aside. "So, you really didn't write the suggestion?" He asked quietly, glancing around to make sure no one had heard.

"What? No, Kurt, you should know, you're the one who backhandedly stood up for me!" Rachel looked mildly offended, and Kurt had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Okay, okay," he said, rubbing his ears as his eyebrows knitted together. "I was just thinking about Friday, and that song, and I wondered if it was your way of getting me to do it..."

Rachel scoffed, although Kurt could see curiosity coloring her eyes. "Oh, well... well, no, I didn't, but that_ is_ perfect. So you'll do it, right?" Her annoyance quickly transcended into excitement over Kurt's prospective song choice.

"I mean, probably. I'll think about it at least." And then suddenly they were in the parking lot, and walking to their own cars.

Rachel grinned. "Good. It was made for your voice. Now, where is my brother..." She glanced around the lot and Kurt immediately felt his ears flame up again. Of course they rode to and from school together. Logically speaking, he knew that, so why was his face feeling hot all of a sudden?

"Oh, um, I just remembered, I promised my dad I'd be home as soon as we were out—otherwise I'd help you find him. See you tomorrow!" He didn't see the strange look Rachel gave to his turned back, nor Blaine walk up not a moment later and glance at him as well.

* * *

><p>"Kurt, come on, it's <em>perfect."<em>

That night on the phone, Kurt was debating over song choice. "Rachel, good song selection is all about _context. _I haven't had any major heartbreak recently, as far as I'm aware, and I certainly haven't even had a boyfriend to worry about breaking my heart anyway. It would just feel so... _fake."_

"It's called acting, Kurt, and I for one know that you're splendid at it. It's perfect for your voice, and it would only prove to Mr. Schuester and all the others how moving and wonderful you can be."

"You can't see me right now, but I'm making my sour face," Kurt commented dryly.

"Oh, hush," Rachel dismissed him. "It would be wonderful. Please, just think about it. It was like fate wanted you to sing that song, for that suggestion to even end up in the box _right _after we talked about it. Besides, we did "Defying Gravity" last year, so Wicked is out. What else would you do?" Kurt was quiet for a moment, and Rachel seemed to take that as a sign of his agreement. "So," she tagged on conversationally. "Has Finn mentioned any song choice to you?"

Kurt rolled his eyes at Rachel's fishing for information on his stepbrother, but stopped when he realized he had essentially done the same thing about Blaine. Finn was recently single, and he knew that Rachel had been head over heels since they were in middle school. "Actually, yes, I've been helping him pick a good song. I think we've settled on the perfect number."

"And aren't you going to tell me what it is?" Rachel asked after a moment of silence on Kurt's end.

"You'll just have to see," Kurt said, shrugging to himself despite the fact that he knew Rachel couldn't see him. "But I will tell you, it's perfect in _context." _He laughed as Rachel huffed.

Rachel spent the rest of the evening ranting about Finn, while Kurt couldn't stop thinking about his song, and how it would go over if he did it.

* * *

><p>If Kurt had been nervous about Blaine spending so much time with the Glee Club, he realized by Wednesday it wasn't <em>exactly <em>warranted. Sure, he'd feel his ears heating up whenever he looked over at him, and he was constantly having to catch himself when he realized he was staring, but for the most part, Blaine was quiet and played with his head down. His interactions with the club, much like Brad's, were kept to a minimum. And Kurt hadn't even settled on a song yet, so there had been little opportunity to look like a fool in front of him.

Besides, Kurt could hardly think about being nervous and embarrassed when _wow,_ was Blaine talented on the piano. His presence alone could have been distracting, but the way he played music made Kurt want to _die. _

Until Thursday. The week had gone pretty smoothly. Finn had absolutely _killed _his version of _Avenue Q's _"Purpose" (which led to an hour-long phone call with Rachel that night which consisted of a lot of swooning. "Really, though, Kurt, wasn't he looking at me a _whole_ lot?"), Puck had revamped some Frankie Valli from _Jersey Boys, _and Rachel had done a number as Wendla from _Spring Awakening._ It appeared that despite all the early grumblings, people had really managed to find niches in the modern musicals. Mr. Schuester was raving about the suggestion by midweek, and almost everyone had gone by Thursday.

Kurt glanced at Blaine as he entered the room with his messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Blaine had watched this movie with him, maybe even knew this was coming, and he wasn't sure if he could handle the mortification of singing in front of the object of his recent affections.

But when Mr. Schuester finally glanced expectantly at the four members of the club who had yet to perform—Mike, Brittany, Artie, and himself—he knew he was running out of time to avoid the assignment. Sighing to himself, he raised his hand. "I'm ready Mr. Schue," he said, glancing at Rachel. She looked hopeful, but uncertain, as he had avoided discussing the song choice with her. He rifled through his bag for a moment before drawing out the sheet music and handing it to Blaine. "Here." Blaine glanced at the music and smiled at him encouragingly, apparently recognizing the song. Kurt could feel his stomach flip uncertainly as Blaine's lips turned up, and he quickly glanced away.

_The only way you're going to get through this is if you pretend he isn't there._

Kurt stood in front of the piano, artfully keeping Blaine out of his vision. Kurt watched Rachel's eyes widen with joy as _she _recognized the song.

Throughout the song, the only sorrow Kurt could draw upon was his unrequited infatuation on Blaine. He didn't know _why, _because the circumstances were so obviously different, and he wasn't exactly _hurting, _he was just a little the line, "Jamie's got secrets he doesn't confide," in the back of his mind, Kurt could almost feel Blaine's eyes bore into him. Was he imaging it? He didn't chance looking over, and stared fixedly at Rachel.

She was all smiles, and he could even see a few tears gathering in her eyes. _Woah, really? _Kurt couldn't help but feel touched at that. He knew that the context was all wrong, and he briefly wondered if his friends would mistakenly think that he was singing about someone. As he glanced around the room, however, he was not met with concerned frowns, but instead happy, reverent faces. Which was, again, a surprise.

As he hit the third to last note—the longest of the song—he realized he was quite happy with his choice. Maybe there wasn't context for it, but it was maybe at least special for him. And maybe Rachel. And maybe Blaine felt like part of it, too. Or at least, Kurt could hope.

Mr. Schuester began the applause, and the rest of the club followed suit. "Great job Kurt!"

"You sounded lovely, as I knew you would with a song that would present your talents so wonderfully."

"Stop trying to take the credit, grubber," Santana commented, rolling her eyes—it was the closet thing to a compliment Kurt knew he would get from her. The rest of the club began gathering their things, and muttered that they'd see each other tomorrow.

He glanced at the clock on the wall, and realized that time was up. Kurt turned to take his music back from Blaine, but saw that Rachel's brother was already standing, and shuffling his belongings together. Without looking up, he muttered a quick, "That was great," to Kurt, and walked out of the room, obviously forgetting that he would need to wait for Rachel anyway.

Kurt, surprised and unexpectedly hurt, stared dumbly at the spot that Blaine had just occupied. _He didn't even bother to look him in the eyes._ He sniffed, and crossed his arms, trying to convince himself that it didn't matter. Even though, if he was being honest, he couldn't help but wonder what he'd done to horribly offend Blaine, and make him run out like Kurt had the plague.

After a moment, he realized he was the last person in the room. Sighing, he crossed the room, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. Just as he was walking out of the room, though, something caught his eye underneath the piano.

He kneeled on the floor and reached under, pulling out a marbled composition notebook. He recognized it instantly. "Oh my god."

It was Blaine's.


	8. Well, shit

**Title: **Unwanted  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Blaine is eleven when his parents kick him out of the house. His social worker manages to find him a new home with a more accepting couple. As Blaine grows up, he deals with the effects of being an unwanted child, and how to feel loved by his new family. Along the way, he meets boy who challenges everything he knows about love and relationships.  
><strong>Author's note: <strong>The first half of this chapter went exactly as I wanted to. The second half, it felt like Kurt had a mind of his own, and just took me off in this direction... so it feels weird to me. I hope you all enjoy it though, and you're satisfied with the way things are unfolding! Thanks for the wonderful reviews from last chapter. Stats is kicking my butt and stressing me out, and having you all understand was so lovely. I have the best readers ever!

**ALSO: I am looking for a beta! I don't really know much about this process, but please let me know if you might be interested :)**

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes before class the next morning, Kurt found himself hovering a few feet away from Blaine's locker, unseen by the older boy. He had gotten there extra early to make sure he was able to find Blaine before classes, and he was lucky that Blaine had apparently felt the need to be early as well. The notebook felt heavy in his messenger bag despite the fact that it weighed almost nothing, and Kurt debated with himself over how best to approach the situation. Blaine stood at his locker frantically overturning books and shuffling things around, and Kurt felt almost guilty knowing exactly what he was searching for. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. <em>This is it. This is you, and him, and talking to him not because you're at Rachel's. Come on, Hummel.<em>

Gathering what little courage he could find, he began to approach Blaine's locker.

He cleared his throat nervously, trying to figure out how to draw Blaine's attention "Um..." he started uncertainly. Blaine's head, which had been practically inside of his locker, immediately snapped towards him, startled.

"Kurt," Blaine said, still bent at the waist, surprise evident in his voice.

"Hi," Kurt replied. He gripped the over-the-shoulder strap of his bag tightly, unconsciously trying to feel braver.

Blaine blinked vacantly for a moment before straightening himself, separating himself from his locker momentarily. "Oh, uh, hey," he said. His eyes were slightly widened with what Kurt perceived as confusion and interest.

Kurt could feel his ears redden, as happened so often when he was distressed or nervous. Despite knowing he was approaching Blaine for something important, he still felt incredibly embarrassed for approaching him at all—as if this conversation alone would prove his infatuation, and Blaine would run in the other direction screaming.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, breaking the silence. Kurt realized then that he'd been silent too long. "Can I help you with something?" Blaine's eyes were focused on his, and instead of staring at Kurt like he had three heads, he looked concerned.

"Oh, um," Kurt cleared his throat awkwardly. He glanced down at his bag, and then back at Blaine, praying that Blaine wouldn't be angry at him. Slowly, he slid his hands in, drawing out the little notebook. "I found this, yesterday in the choir room. After practice."

The air around them seemed to spark almost instantaneously, as Blaine's face immediately changed from one of polite interest to one of panic. His eyes flashed, and he reached for the notebook that Kurt offered him gingerly. Blaine looked at the notebook, and then back at Kurt, obviously a little dumbfounded. He opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it almost as quickly, while his eyebrows furrowed together, as if he was dreading the next words Kurt would say.

"I didn't open it," Kurt said honestly. Not that he hadn't desperately wanted to. After finding it yesterday afternoon, he had turned it over in his hands carefully, fingers grazing the cover in awe. This was the notebook he'd seen Blaine carrying around _everywhere_, after all. And something about that fact alone stopped him from opening it. There was just an energy to it—something that made it feel so intensely private that Kurt couldn't imagine so much as _lifting the cover_ without cringing. Logically speaking, it could have just been notes. Any person who hadn't spent their time observing Blaine every possible minute of the day would have probably thought so. But Kurt wasn't any person, and he knew that whatever Blaine spent so much time writing down at all hours of the day couldn't just be notes. It had to be something that _mattered. _

Which is why he vowed the second he found it that he wouldn't open it. He'd even considered leaving it in his locker to avoid temptation, but it felt wrong to leave something so... _monumental _in the unsafe halls of McKinley. He felt like it was his duty to Blaine to keep it safe. So, it had unfortunately had to come home with him.

The only problem with this, of course, was the entire evening, Kurt had imagined that the notebook had eyes, and that they wore boring into him while he pointedly ignored them. "I'm not going to read you," Kurt had even spoken to it, in a moment of mild desperation. It was obviously something Blaine put a lot of time and energy into, if the frequency Kurt had seen it was any indication. But he and Kurt weren't _friends. _It would have felt like such a huge invasion of privacy. Particularly after his conversation with Rachel. He ended up shoving it—delicately, of course—into his backpack, and hiding that under his bed, in the hopes of forgetting it existed. That hadn't worked, of course, so he had sunk so low as going to play video games with Finn to avoid his room, but that was another story entirely.

Kurt snapped himself out of his own thoughts, and watched carefully for Blaine's reaction.

"Oh, um... really? Because my name isn't on the cover or anything... so how would you have known it was mine?" Blaine's voice was soft, and not really accusatory, but Kurt knew he had an excellent point. Blaine's eyes looked so _wide _and concerned, and there was nothing Kurt wanted more than to soothe his concerns. _What was in that damn thing to be so nervous about anyway? _Kurt wondered again in brief frustration.

Kurt knew that his next words were going to slightly give himself away, but it was better than Blaine thinking he was a liar or a snoop. "I promise," Kurt began, voice perhaps a little shakier than he would have liked, but still very sincere. "I didn't read it... I just... I knew it was yours." When Blaine's eyes prompted him to continue, Kurt started again unsurely. "First of all, it was sitting under the piano bench. And no one was sitting there but you. Second of all, you ran out of there pretty quickly," Kurt noticed Blaine look embarrassed for some reason, then, "And so, it was logical that you could have forgotten something by mistake. And third..." Kurt bit his lip, and pointedly stared at a spot just above Blaine's shoulder, to avoid his eyes. "Well," Kurt said, drawing a breath, and straighten his posture. "I've seen you with it. You have it with you all the time."

Blaine's eyes widened, and Kurt wanted to crawl into a hole and die. "I mean, I just... I just noticed it, I guess. I'm sorry, I know that sounds..." Kurt couldn't figure out how the best way to end his sentence, so he trailed off instead. He knew that Blaine probably thought he was a horrible, creepy stalker now, or something, and sticking around would just make it worse. "Anyway, I guess I'll see you in Glee later," Kurt sputtered out, moving to turn on his heel. He would hold his head high, and act like nothing was wrong—that was the Kurt Hummel way.

But he never got to, because Blaine grabbed his forearm gently. "Kurt, wait a sec," he said, waiting as Kurt turned back to face him.

The corner of Blaine's mouth turned upward slightly, and his eyes looked so sincere. "Thank you, Kurt. Really. This means a lot to me." Kurt could feel his heart speed up—he had never seen Blaine smile like that, and it made his skin burn. Not to mention, Blaine still had his hand on his forearm, and his eyes were boring into Kurt's, and Kurt was sure he had died. That was the only possible explanation.

"Of course," Kurt smiled, glad that Blaine didn't appear to think he was as creepy as he actually was. "Anytime."

Blaine smiled a little more widely, and said, "Well, I really hope it doesn't happen again. I doubt I'd get so lucky a second time around."

Kurt desperately wanted to ask _why _it was so important that it didn't happen again, what was in the notebook that was so secret, but he knew that would entirely kill all of the rapport he was suddenly building with Blaine. So he didn't. And Blaine's next words distracted him so thoroughly that he didn't have any more time to consider his decision.

"How about I buy you a cup of coffee later, as a thank you?" Blaine looked up a Kurt through his thick eyelashes. It was honestly the most personal interaction Kurt had ever heard from him, and he was _sure_ his heart was going to stop. Kurt wanted to say no, because he was sure that Blaine was just being polite, but for some reason he couldn't. Even if Blaine _was _just being nice, turning down an opportunity to spend one on one time with him would just be stupid.

His internal debate caused him to stumble over his words as he got them out. "Oh, um, coffee! Yes, that would be—I'd like that. I mean its totally not necessary, but I appreciate the offer." Kurt knew that if his ears hadn't been red before, they definitely were now. Because despite the fact that Blaine had _offered, _maybe he was just being polite and hadn't expected Kurt to be foolish enough to say _yes, _thus saddling Blaine with the inconvenience of actually having to spend time with—_Oh. _

Kurt felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of him, because he was suddenly realizing that Blaine was doing the most wonderful thing.

He was smiling.

And it wasn't the small, unsure smile that had graced his face earlier. His eyes widened, and his lips curled back showing his brilliantly white teeth, and Kurt could feel his stomach splosh around in an uncomfortable, though not necessarily unpleasant kind of way.

"Great," he said, effectively ending any thoughts that Kurt could have possibly had left in his brain. "Are you free this afternoon?"

Kurt thought for a moment, desperately hoping he was and then—"Shoot, no. I promised Mercedes we would go wander around Barnes and Noble after glee."

Blaine appeared unfazed, and Kurt wasn't sure how to take that. Did that mean he couldn't care less that Kurt was unavailable? Or that he was peacefully understanding that he couldn't break plans that had already been made?

"Well, how about tomorrow, then?" Blaine asked, checking his watch. Kurt glanced at his own, and realized that they only had another moment before they should both hurry to class.

Kurt thought quickly, and then tried to answer as nonchalantly as possible. "Yeah, tomorrow works. Although, again, it's really unnecessary. I was just returning something because it belongs to you."

"Great. Coffee tomorrow. See you in glee later." Blaine completely disregarded Kurt's last words, as he offered him another fleeting smile before shutting his locker and walking off in the other direction; Kurt didn't even have time to get another sentence formed in his head. Blaine had appeared almost entirely unaffected, and Kurt had no idea how to read their interaction, or even the fact that they'd be interacting in any context again tomorrow.

"Well, shit."

* * *

><p>Kurt's day somehow simultaneously dragged on and went much too quickly for his liking. During class, he couldn't help but stare at the clock in the desperate hope that the day would end quickly, but between classes he could feel himself watching for Blaine, hoping time would slow before his next class, so he could just see him. Every pass time that happened without even a glimpse of him felt like a waste, like everything was moving too quickly and he didn't have a moment to just stop and <em>look.<em>

But that, too, was an absurd thought. Kurt knew that he would have had no clue how to act once he _did_ see Blaine, and that possibility alone almost made him skip glee club that afternoon. Then he remembered that it was Monday, and since Mondays were the day they received their assignment for the week, no one ever had anything prepared—pianists weren't needed. Which meant no Blaine. Kurt's excellent logic had reasoned him into feeling secure as he walked through the door of the choir room at the end of the day.

And, as the world tends to work, even though he didn't have any reason to be there, as Kurt walked in, there was Blaine Anderson, in a chair next to Rachel on the bottom riser.

Kurt walked to his seat as if he was wearing blinders, not bothering to spare a glance at Blaine. He arrived a little late, so thankfully Mr. Schue was walking in just after him, and he wouldn't have to chat with the room.

As he stood at the front of the room, Mr. Schue clapped his hands and started in on the week's assignment. Kurt barely heard a word, as he stared intently at the back of Blaine's gelled head.

How was he ever going to get through tomorrow?

After about five minutes of discussion, Mr. Schue seemed to notice Blaine too. "Oh, Blaine, I thought I told you we didn't need you on Mondays," he said kindly.

From behind, Kurt could see Blaine turn his chin slightly. His voice was soft, but kind. "Well, since I would be waiting for Rachel anyway, I figured I would just sit in. If that's okay," he added, gesturing with his palm out.

Kurt wanted to shake his head and nod emphatically at the same time. He loved having the chance to watch Blaine—_God, even __**you**__ think you sound creepy—_but it also provided too many opportunities to embarrass himself. He was too close. Before, Kurt would observe from a distance, at his own convenience. It was easy to remain unnoticed.

But out of nowhere, it felt like Blaine was suddenly _around, _and that brought along the dreadful possibility of being noticed back—and not necessarily for the right reasons. After Finn, and even after Sam, the possibility of being _wrong _was just so unappealing, and off-putting, and terrifying. It was one thing to have a crush that didn't know you existed. It was another entirely to have one reject you after they noticed. Particularly if they were straight. That was just mortifying, and Kurt didn't think he could do it again.

By the time he remembered where he was and why he shouldn't be zoning out about his love life (or lack thereof), Kurt had missed the entire interaction between Blaine and Mr. Schue. He spent the rest of the time pointedly ignoring Blaine's head. Blaine couldn't see him, and so wouldn't be aware of this, but it at least made Kurt feel better.

It also made him feel better to run out of the club before he had to make any conversation, and it wasn't until he had made it to his car that he realized he hadn't bothered to wait for Mercedes. He shot her a quick text, and waited for her to meet him at his car.

As he waited, he thought more about his current predicament. The only thing to do about this was rid himself of the fascination. He couldn't embarrass himself again, and it felt like his interest in Blaine was just leading him down that road again. All day, he had thought about the potential of their plans for coffee, what it could mean—and then, just seeing Blaine in glee had reminded him of the potential he had seen in Sam, and in their duet, and suddenly everything felt wrong.

He sighed heavily, and leaned his head against his car window. He saw Rachel and Blaine walk through the parking lot to their car, and he could have sworn Blaine glanced in the direction of his navigator. _Thoughts like that are precisely why you need to stop thinking about it. _

Because then he'd start to hope.

For the second time that day, Kurt found himself shaking his head.

"Well, _shit._"


	9. It's a NonDate, Pt I

**Title: **Unwanted  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Blaine is eleven when his parents kick him out of the house. His social worker manages to find him a new home with a more accepting couple. As Blaine grows up, he deals with the effects of being an unwanted child, and how to feel loved by his new family. Along the way, he meets boy who challenges everything he knows about love and relationships.  
><strong>Author's note:<strong> I have no words except I am SO SORRY that it took so long to get this chapter out. Remember that stats class I told you about? It's been pretty much hell, and midterms and papers are catching up with me. I am definitely going to work on being more timely, I promise. I hope you're still reading.

This chapter is currently unbetaed, but should hopefully be replaced within the next few days, once my lovely beta gets it back to me :) We've had all sorts of email issues, so I hope you will overlook the mistakes. Thank you so much for bearing with me. I'm also sorry for where I cut it off, I just NEEDED to get this out.

* * *

><p>That night, Kurt vowed he would play it cool the next day. Feelings were messy, and painful, but coffee was just coffee. That's all he would allow it to be.<p>

And because it was just coffee, he certainly didn't spend an hour picking his clothes out for the next day, or do a second run of his moisturizing routine just in case. Because he wasn't getting his hopes up.

Mercedes had definitely noticed something was off with him during their date, but despite her inquires Kurt remained tight-lipped. All he needed was for Blaine to get word that he'd been talking about him, and then he'd look like a stalker. Eventually, she got bored and huffed to the car, leaving Kurt even more frustrated than he'd been at the start of the outing.

By the next morning, Kurt was sure he wouldn't be able to make it through school—his not-nerves had managed to keep him tossing and turning, and sleep had more than just alluded him.

He knew he was in for a rough day the minute he walked into the building.

"Hey fairy," a burly football player grunted, as he shoved him into a nearby locker. Kurt flinched, and braced himself for the impact. _At least it wasn't a—_scratch that thought. As soon as he thought it, Kurt was doused with the icy shock of his daily morning slushie.

By second period, Kurt was ready to call it quits on the day. His hair was flailing horribly despite his attempts to restyle it thanks to the bad weather, and his failed efforts caused him to be late to Trig. Mr. Columbo hadn't been sympathetic. He also hadn't seen Blaine once, but he wasn't sure if he should be grateful or not. Considering the state of his appearance, he was guessing he should.

After being scolded and just narrowly avoiding a detention, Kurt shrank a more elegant word here, if that makes sense into his seat next to Rachel.

Kurt could see her eying him in his peripherals. "Yes?" He asked, teeth gritted. He knew it wasn't Rachel's fault that his morning had been complete shit, but he didn't really have the patience for her right now, either—best friend or not.

He turned to face her then, and felt his eyes soften ever so slightly at the genuine concern she met him with. "You okay?" she whispered, mindful of avoiding any more attention from their teacher.

Kurt shrugged noncommittally, and stared at a point above Mr. Columbo's head. He was talking about some kind of function that Kurt was sure he'd end up teaching himself out of the textbook anyway, so listening was really a moot point. "Rough day," he murmured at last, barely glancing at her again. He felt soft pressure on his forearm—Rachel's hand, he realized immediately—and wondered if he really looked miserable enough to warrant such concern. "I'll be fine," he added, this time addressing her with more gratitude. "Thanks." He offered some measure of a smile, and turned his head back towards the front of the room.

Rachel was unfortunately undeterred by his brusque demeanor. Instead, she seemed to assume that his less-than-chatty nature was because he was worried about getting caught. He watched as she scribbled a note on the corner of her notebook, ripped it off, and slipped it to Kurt carefully.

_Seriously, you look upset. You wanna get some coffee after school and talk?_

Oh. Awkward. Kurt scrunched up his nose and ran a hand through his hair. He debated with himself for a moment over how honest he should be, before writing, _I can't. I already have plans. Raincheck?_

There. That was honest, and not too dismissive.

He carefully slid the note back to Rachel, and watched as her eyebrows furrowed. The look on her face told him she was about to question it further, but Mr. Columbo suddenly called on her. She could barely sputter out a vague answer before she remembered what class they were in; unlike Kurt, Rachel couldn't just absorb the material out of the book.

She shot him a look that told him that they would continue their discussion later, before resting her chin on her palm and staring blankly at the board.

* * *

><p>Kurt caught a break at the bell, when Mr. Columbo had called Rachel to presumably discuss her last quiz grade. But he knew he wouldn't be so lucky for the rest of the day. Usually Kurt lamented the fact that they had only one class together, but today he couldn't be more grateful for the separation. How was he going to explain to Rachel that he had coffee plans with her<em> brother?<em>

His day, unfortunately, wasn't full of any more small miracles. His English teacher decided to bump up the due date for a huge paper Kurt was behind on, his art project was a total disaster, and Brett smelled worse than normal during Bio. By the time Glee rolled around, Kurt was in a mood. To make matters worse, he knew that the first thing Rachel would do would be to grill him about his plans. Instead, he took his time gathering his books from his locker and sliding them into his messenger bag, carefully choosing which ones he would need at home. Well, to the outside observer, that's what he looked like he was doing. Internally, Kurt was sneaking glances at the clock, and wondering just how late he could be to practice without it looking suspicious.

Just as he was contemplating, however, he felt a presence hovering just behind his line of vision. He turned—carefully, in case it was a sneak attack slushie—only to find that Blaine was standing behind him.

"Oh, hi," Kurt said, almost dropping his book in surprise. He cringed at how high his voice sounded to himself, and said a silent prayer that Blaine didn't notice how inept Kurt always came off around him.

Blaine gave him a kind, if not polite smile. "Hey Kurt," he said. Kurt felt envy pool in his stomach that Blaine was so put together all of the time—something that Kurt thought he'd perfected, until he'd met Blaine. "I just wanted to make sure you were still okay with getting coffee today? I owe you for yesterday."

Kurt felt his cheeks heat up, and he cursed his body for being such a traitor. "Oh, yeah, of course. Looking forward to it." He had been fumbling with his book bag, and chanced a look at the older boy. Blaine was looking at him in with blank eyes, and Kurt couldn't help but feel the same sense of polite distance that always seemed to radiate off of the older boy. Glancing at the clock again, Kurt remembered what—or more specifically _who—_he was avoiding. "Did you, uh," Kurt sputtered out, still looking at Blaine with what he hoped were not serial killer eyes. "Did you happen to mention anything to your sister?"

Blaine's expression was unreadable, and Kurt wondered if he'd made a mistake asking. Blaine's features seemed to shrink for a moment, and his eyes cast downward, glancing at Kurt's bag. This lasted for merely a second, though, and the cool, calm, collected Blaine Kurt had come to recognize was back almost instantaneously. "No, I didn't really think about it," he said, offering a shrug. "I'm sure it won't be a big deal. Are you headed to practice?" Blaine smiled at him, and Kurt found himself accepting the brush-off of the topic in favor of keeping that smile in place.

"Yeah, are you?" Kurt offered him a smile, and zipped up his messenger bag. When Blaine said he was, Kurt slammed his locker and turned towards the choir room. He hoped that entering together wouldn't be too conspicuous.

_Geez, listen to yourself, _Kurt scolded himself internally. _Too conspicuous. You could only be conspicuous if something was actually going on. Which it isn't, because this will not be a date. Stop being stupid._

He shook himself out of his thoughts, and focused his attention back on Blaine, who was in the middle of asking him something.

"—and I don't know if you have any particular thoughts on coffee bars, but I'm more partial to the Lima Bean than I am to Starbucks or Caribou..." he glanced at Kurt then, as if gauging his reaction. He looked... apprehensive, perhaps? With his eyes a little wide, and his lips pursed ever so slightly.

Kurt nodded emphatically. "I love the Lima Bean!" he agreed. "Their coffee is so much better than the chains, and the atmosphere is so much more inviting."

The tension Blaine's face had been holding seemed to break then, and he broke out into a genuine grin. Kurt felt his body release its own tension at his smile. "That's exactly how I feel," Blaine said quietly, as if he was confessing a precious secret. "I couldn't agree more." Blaine's lips were quirked a bit towards the right, and Kurt couldn't help but swoon a bit internally. He looked precious. Unfortunately, the walk to the choir room was much too short for his liking, and soon they were lingering by the door. Kurt paused for a moment, unsure if they should even walk in together. At this point, Blaine would probably find it more conspicuous if he suggested they go in separately. "You coming?" Blaine asked, only proving Kurt's thoughts. Kurt smiled at him, and braced himself for whatever was waiting for them on the other side of the door.

Mr. Schuester hadn't come in yet, so New Directions members were just chatting idly. When Kurt and Blaine walked in, however, Kurt could practically feel their attention shift. Rachel's eyes were on him, and his instincts shouted at him to hang back, so he and Blaine could avoid looking like they had walked in _together. _It was entirely too late for that sentiment, but it didn't stop him from thinking about it anyway.

"Kurt!" Rachel jumped up out of her seat, and grabbed his arm, directed him to a seat near her, and as far from the piano as possible. "I can't believe I didn't see you at all today! Not even in the hallway!" Her eyebrows were raised entirely too high for her to not want something, so Kurt stared at her blankly. He sat down in the chair next to Rachel, before sneaking a quick glance in Blaine's direction. The rest of New Directions seemed to be considerably unobservant, and there conversations had picked up almost as quickly as they had paused.

He didn't think that anyone was listening to them, so he turned his attention back to Rachel expectantly. "Yes?" He asked dryly.

Rachel seemed to know that she was being less than subtle, and had the decency to look guilty. "You just seemed like you were hiding something today in math," she said, casting her eyes down. "Who do you have plans with after school?" He glanced at Mercedes, and almost considered using her as a cover before Rachel added, "And I already know it's not Mercedes. She said she had plans with Sam."

"Well, I don't see why it's a big deal," Kurt said, resting his chin on his hand and avoiding her eyes, "But if you must know... Blaine asked me to get some coffee with him." He paused wondering if he should add any other details, but he didn't know how to explain the favor he had done Rachel's brother.

Any expression Rachel's face had held not a moment earlier seemed to disappear, as lips closed, and her eyes widened slightly. "Oh," she said, her voice indicated how taken aback she was. The single syllable made Kurt's stomach flip guiltily.

"Oh?" Kurt prompted, unsure as to how to interpret the syllable. "Is that... okay?" He felt odd asking for Rachel's permission, but he felt just as odd not. It was an uncomfortable position to be in. "He just wanted to talk about..." Kurt paused, grasping for a thought, anything that would make Rachel more comfortable. "The piano arrangement. For a song I want to pitch for sectionals."

Rachel's eyes lit up then, and Kurt could physically feel the tension leaving his body. "For sectionals? Of course! That makes sense. I don't see why you didn't ask me to come along—" Rachel, he knew, was about to go off on a tangent, so Kurt quickly cut her off.

"It's a surprise. That's why I didn't mention it."

Rachel looked torn between being put-out and being excited for Kurt's ideas. "As long as you have factored my range into your arrangement—" Kurt laughed and rolled his eyes, and Mr. Schue thankfully walked in before Kurt had to continue their conversation.

* * *

><p>By the time Glee was over, Kurt was buzzing in his seat. He would be spending an interminable amount of time just basking in Blaine's presence, and it was bound to be either incredibly embarrassing for him, incredibly swoon-worthy, or, most likely both.<p>

Kurt hadn't paid attention to a majority of the discussion, so he could only pray that no one questioned him about it. As the room began to clear out, Kurt hesitated to approach Blaine. Rachel was lingering as well, so he turned to her, and said, "I'll let you know how it goes. Without spoilers, though," he winked at her, hoping that it would pacify her curiosity.

"Don't forget what I said about my range!" she eyed him carefully, and then walked over to Blaine. Kurt realized they were the last three people in the room. "See you at home?" she asked, offering him a smile.

Blaine nodded and said something that Kurt didn't catch. Rachel glanced between the two of them again, before finally making her way out of the classroom.

Kurt released a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.

"Long day?" Blaine asked, as the corner of his mouth turned up into the half-smile Kurt was growing so fond of.

Kurt nodded. "Just a bit. Are we driving separately?" He slung his messenger bag over his shoulder, and started moving towards the door. Blaine was by his side almost immediately.

"I don't mind driving, and then dropping you off here after," Blaine offered casually, glancing at Kurt through his peripherals. "Unless you'd rather go separately, or have somewhere else to be." The half-smile was back again, and while it was still as polite as it had always been, Kurt also felt like there was something else to it. He liked the feeling.

"No, no, that's perfect. No use wasting the gas." Kurt kind of wanted to punch himself for that, because it just kind of sounded stupid, but Blaine didn't seem to notice.

They walked to the parking lot together, where Kurt gathered that Rachel had probably gotten a ride back with Finn.

"So, uh," Kurt started, scratching his neck. "You didn't let Rachel know she had to catch another ride?" He chuckled, hoping he wasn't overstepping, again.

"No, she mentioned having plans with Finn this morning on the ride to school." Kurt found that odd, especially after her fervent offers for coffee, but then realized that she'd been willing to cancel his plans for him. _Well, now I feel guilty._

He sighed and almost stopped at his car, before remembering that they were driving together. _Oh my god, why would you think that was a good idea? Now you can't even leave if you need to escape or something. Or if you say something stupid. Way to go, Hummel._

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, breaking him out of his revere. Kurt realized he'd completely bypassed the car Blaine had stopped at.

"Oh, sorry, I wasn't paying attention. I'm a little out of it today," He laughed at himself then, trying to seem as not preoccupied as possible

Blaine just smiled, and chuckled slightly as he popped his trunk and tossed his messenger bag in casually. He tilted his head, prompting Kurt to do the same.

"This is a nice car," Kurt commented, as he slid into the seat of the blue Nissan Sentra. He glanced around, and was impressed by how tidy it was. Kurt had seen Rachel's room—and while it was clean, he doubted that she'd be able to keep a car this well cleaned.

"Thanks," Blaine said, turning to Kurt as he strapped his seatbelt. His half-smile was definitely becoming Kurt's favorite.

"And this is one of my favorite shades of blue," Kurt offered, feeling a little ridiculous the minute the words left his mouth.

Blaine seemed unfazed by the silliness of the comment though, and actually grinned. With his teeth. "Mine too," he said. Just like earlier when they had discussed the Lima Bean, Kurt felt like Blaine had just confessed some deep secret, the way he said it. He almost whispered it, and nodded, before glancing ever so slightly at Kurt.

Kurt felt himself shiver, before he realized what he was thinking. _He basically just told you he liked the color blue. Why are you blowing everything out of proportion?_

Kurt nodded back, and was silent for a few beats. "So, Rachel and I were talking earlier. I was wondering if you'd help me with some piano arrangements for my next song?" There. That seemed pretty fair—if Rachel brought it up with Blaine, Blaine would at least be able to say they'd discussed it somewhat.

"Oh?" Blaine asked, tilting his head while keeping his eyes on the road. Kurt couldn't help but wonder if he was imaging the slight frown that had placed itself on Blaine's lips. _Overanaylzing, _his brain shrieked again.

"I mean, I don't really have any idea of what I want to do next—but when I do, I'd love to get your thoughts. You play beautifully." Kurt just hoped he sounded opposite of how he felt. He was going for nonchalance, despite the anticipation, anxiety, and excitement that was bubbling in his stomach.

Blaine's face seemed to return to a more neutral zone, then, and he nodded. "Sure, when you have some thoughts let me know."

They were quiet after that, for the few minutes until they pulled up to the Lima Bean.

As they exited the car, Kurt wasn't feeling any less nervous than he had in the car. Now he'd actually have to make eye contact, and worry about not looking like an idiot while he drank his coffee, or worse, _spilling _it everywhere. He knew that he was probably too worried about impressing Blaine, since there was no way Blaine would ever be impressed with him anyway, but there was no way to shut his brain off.

"Kurt?' Blaine cut in, as they reached the line. His eyebrows were raised, and his eyes were prompting an answer. Kurt had the sinking feeling he'd been trying to get his attention for a moment.

"Oh, Blaine, I'm so sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me today," He felt his cheeks and ears heat up, and he hoped Blaine didn't find him to be rude.

Blaine just offered him a light smile. "No, it's totally fine, I was just wondering what you wanted?" he nodded to the menu, despite the fact that Kurt didn't even need it here.

"Oh," Kurt felt his face flame more, for inexplicable reasons. "Again you really, really don't have to buy my—"

Blaine held up his hand and looked reprovingly at Kurt. "No, I told you, I'm buying you a cup of coffee. I can't even explain what you did for me, this is really the least I can do for you." This time, he full on grinned, and Kurt had the sinking feeling he'd do anything Blaine Anderson asked of him

"Non-fat Mocha," he said, offering his own wide smile to Blaine. "Thank you so much. Entirely unnecessary, but really very much appreciated."


	10. It's a NonDate Pt II

**Title: **Unwanted  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Blaine is eleven when his parents kick him out of the house. His social worker manages to find him a new home with a more accepting couple. As Blaine grows up, he deals with the effects of being an unwanted child, and how to feel loved by his new family. Along the way, he meets boy who challenges everything he knows about love and relationships.  
><strong>Author's note: <strong>So, Spring Break brought me less time for writing than I thought it would-but I at least managed to get Chapter 10 out! I'm sorry about the length, it just seemed like a natural place to end, and I was eager to get this shipped off. I apologize for not replying to reviews for Chapter 9; like I said, I was busier than I anticipated I would be. But hopefully 11 will be up soon!

I hope you all enjoy the surprise POV at the end ;)

Thanks again to my lovely beta, **Calamus357**, for being so wonderful :)

* * *

><p>Blaine ordered their coffees while Kurt grabbed a booth in the back corner. Kurt took a nervous moment to preen, checking his hair as inconspicuously as possible in the window reflection. He wondered briefly if Rachel had been fully convinced by his excuse about song arrangements, but brushed it off to avoid thinking about his guilt over lying. After a moment, Blaine met him with their cups in hand. He offered one to Kurt, and slid in to the seat across from him.<p>

"Thanks," Kurt said, smiling widely at his caffeine fix. He took a sample sip, before deciding it already had the appropriate amount of sugar.

Across the table, Blaine had finished adding his creamer and sugar, and took a lick of the stirrer. Kurt's eyes widened, and he could feel his neck heating up. The worst part of having pale skin, (and, you know, being ridiculously attracted to Blaine) was how easily he flushed.

"So," he said, hoping to distract himself from Blaine's tongue. Blaine looked at him with genial eyes, and Kurt couldn't help but wonder what it took to make his face express any kind of emotion. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, which felt drier than normal—probably a product of his nerves, he figured. Which was silly, since he was still reminding himself that there was no reason to be nervous. Blaine was being polite, and probably wouldn't think twice of their time together after it had passed.

He realized he'd begun a sentence and never finished it, and cleared his throat awkwardly. His hands rested his hands on the base of his cup.

For a moment, Kurt could have sworn he caught Blaine looking at him with prompting eyes, but it was only for the briefest second, and he couldn't be sure that's what he'd seen.

Blaine cleared his throat then, and Kurt realized he must feel sufficiently awkward. "So, you mentioned some kind of arrangement in the car?"

Kurt felt a dull nerves bubble in his stomach—the kind you get when you're afraid of looking stupid, he recognized vaguely. He knew he had nothing of note to discuss on the topic, and he'd been the one to bring it up in the first place. "Well—um. I mean, there really isn't anything concrete. At all. It was just something..." _Something I said to your sister to get her off my back. _"Just a stray thought, really."

Blaine, holding the top of his coffee cup by the pads of his fingers, ducked his head behind his arm. Kurt had the sinking feeling he was holding back a chuckle.

After a second, he wiped his chin on the skin between his thumb and forefinger, and set down the cup again. He offered Kurt the same quirky-but-contained half grin he'd been giving him all day, and then cleared his throat. "Well, what kind of music are you listening to lately, then?"

Suddenly, the conversation felt comfortable. Blaine played piano, Kurt was in the Glee Club—it was obviously common ground. And yet, Kurt had to bite back nerves, and the nagging voices reminding him what a fan of show tunes he was, to reply. "Well, I'm not exactly a Top 40s kinda guy," Kurt admitted, nervously rubbing a spot on the back of his neck. "If you hadn't guessed, I really like Broadway. And I'm a big fan of show tunes." That was perhaps a little more honest than he intended to be, especially since his taste wasn't generally well received.

Blaine surprised him though, as his grin remained intact. "Yeah, I'd noticed," he admitted. Was there a hint of shyness that Kurt detected? For the life of him, Kurt couldn't figure out why.

Instead of dwelling on his questions, he continued talking. Spewing, really, as all sorts of things he never planned on saying tumbled out of his mouth. "Although, I will admit, I have a few guilty pleasures. Pink can be rather uplifting on the occasional rough day."

Blaine reacted unexpectedly once again. Kurt was mesmerized by the way Blaine's lips curled above his teeth, and the lilting, cheery noise escaped his mouth—he was _laughing_. His cheeks heated up a bit, as Kurt couldn't decipher whether or not it was in a mocking way.

The boy across from him tilted his head to the side for a moment, and Kurt couldn't help but wonder how his eyes managed to sparkle all of a sudden. "I know _exactly _what you mean," he agreed. Unlike in the car earlier, his admission wasn't whispered. He said it conspiratorially, like he and Kurt were in on some private joke together.

Kurt felt his heart flutter strangely in his chest, then, but still managed a smile. Somehow, he was beginning to feel more comfortable. Kurt's attention then turned entirely to Blaine when the other boy admitted that he was a bit of an an audiophile. "I listen to everything, really. I like Broadway, but I also don't mind alternative, pop, hip hop, rap... I'm a big fan of Pandora, and I have stations for pretty much anything. I love hearing new stuff, and trying to figure it out on the guitar or piano..." Something flashed in eyes suddenly, and he trailed off. Dipping his head, and averting his eyes, he looked embarrassed for a second. "Sorry, I don't mean to carry on like that."

Kurt was mildly perturbed that Blaine had cut himself off so abruptly—Kurt found him fascinating. So instead, he gave an encouraging smile. "No, no," he said, trying to feel brave. "It sounds like you're really passionate about it. That's amazing." He forced a grin to hide his own embarrassment, but he could almost feel the corners of his mouth stretch sideways instead of up.

Blaine's eyes crinkled in a slight smile, and Kurt felt himself release a breath. Something about the boy sitting across from him made him want to swoon and die of embarrassment at the same exact time, but whenever Blaine offered any positive signals, Kurt couldn't help but feel at ease.

They were both quiet for a moment, and Kurt was worried he might have held Blaine's gaze a little too long. He glanced away, and looked out the window instead. It was overcast, as was typical for Ohio in late November, and Kurt could have sworn he saw Finn's car pass the coffee shop, surely heading home with Rachel. Hmm. Finn. The reminder of his stepbrother made Kurt remember all of his apprehensions about forming any kind of a relationship—friendship or otherwise—with the boy sitting across from him. Finn had been his last _real _crush, and it had been a total disaster. Now, of course, they got along really well, but that was because Kurt hadn't found himself even slightly attracted to him after their ordeal.

A quick glance back at the boy across the table made him file the thought back in his head for later. Because if he could find some way to _not _be attracted to Blaine, so he could just be his friend... maybe that would be enough.

The silence that had settled between them momentarily wasn't awkward, somehow. It appeared Blaine was just as lost in his own thoughts as Kurt was in his, for a moment, when suddenly they caught each other's eyes again. Blaine ducked his head a little, and his mouth was hidden behind his coffee cup, but the wishful thinking in Kurt's head could have _sworn _he was detecting a blush.

"So, you play guitar then?" Kurt asked, continuing the conversation from before.

And with that—Kurt and Blaine got into a long discussion on the value of acoustic guitar in popular music, instead of electronic beats.

After about a half hour, Kurt glanced at his watch. "Oh, wow, I can't believe its almost five thirty," he said, feeling disappointment sink in his stomach. Talking to Blaine had been so... _nice. _And easy. And not at all what he expected.

Instantly, Blaine's whole demeanor changed, and his face seemed to fall slightly—"Oh, wow, already?" His brow creased a little, and his tone was more stiff than Kurt had heard all afternoon. "I should be getting home—I really shouldn't be late for dinner."

Anxiety settled in Kurt's stomach, as he wondered what was responsible for Blaine's sudden onset of distance. "Oh, um, I can just call Finn to come get me, maybe then...?" He trailed off uncomfortably, glancing at his hands in his lap.

Blaine's eyes widened, and he sat up a little straighter. "Oh, God, Kurt, no. Of course not." The look Blaine gave him was what Kurt could only call 'pleading.' None of this afternoon had made any sense to him.

Kurt offered Blaine a half-smile, and rose from his chair. "Well, then let's go—no need for either of us to be late." For a minute, his body almost told him to offer a hand to Blaine to help him up—and he blanched at the thought. _Seriously, what is wrong with you? _

The ride back to McKinley was mostly quiet, with the exception of Blaine playing a song that he'd been telling Kurt about in the coffee shop. Kurt's car was easy to pick out in the parking lot, since it was one of the few left, and he couldn't help but lament the fact that the Lima Bean was so close; even though he knew they both had to be getting home, he couldn't help but wonder if this was the last time he'd get to spend time with Blaine alone.

The thought settled uncomfortably in his stomach, and as Blaine pulled up to his navigator, Kurt was gathering courage for his next words.

Blaine turned to him, and his shifted the car into park, but before he could say anything, Kurt was speaking. "Um, this was really fun. You're really—you're really interesting. And we should do it again. Sometime. If you wanted to."

Blaine was quiet for a long moment, and Kurt wondered if his mouth had actually managed to form the words at all. Blaine blinked, and Kurt could feel his stomach drop into his shoes. He was about to swallow his words, get out of the car, and pretend that this afternoon had never happened, when the tiniest smile graced Blaine's full lips. "Yeah. I'd like that." He tilted his head, and the grin quirked a bit more to the side. "Besides, we have to work on that arrangement still."

Kurt felt the tension leave his shoulders as he remembered how to breathe. "Okay, great. I'll see you tomorrow then?" He unbuckled his seat belt, and went to open the door.

"Yeah, for sure. Oh, and Kurt?" Blaine stopped him before he was out of the car. Kurt turned back to him, waiting for the bit of bad news that made today real.

It didn't come.

"Thanks. Again. You know—for yesterday." Blaine rubbed the back of his neck, and Kurt could almost feel the gratitude radiate off him.

"Really—don't mention it." With a last smile at Rachel's brother, he slammed the door, and got into his own car. "Bye, Blaine."

* * *

><p>It wasn't that Rachel <em>waited <em>for Blaine to come home, per say. If she happened to glance at the clock every few minutes, wondering how long it took to get coffee with someone, then so be it.

Sure, they would be discussing sectionals. But that's not how Kurt had originally phrased it. "Blaine asked me to get some coffee with him," he'd said. _Blaine _asked to get coffee with_ him. _She had tried to squelch the envy that had simmered in her stomach upon hearing Kurt's words, but she couldn't help it.

Her brother, her big brother, hadn't ever indicated that he would want to spend time with her. And for years, Rachel had been able to comfort herself with the idea that he didn't spend time with _anyone. _And yeah, maybe that was a horrible way to think about it, but Blaine had always been a Humphrey Bogart-esque loner—a tragic hero of sorts—and Rachel had always assumed he liked it better that way.

So for him to be suddenly be spending time with Kurt—well, she couldn't really wrap her head around it.

Which is why when Blaine pulled in just a shade before six, Rachel couldn't help but wonder what had taken so very, very long.

"Hey!" She said, perhaps a bit too brightly as Blaine walked through the door.

Blaine seemed slightly taken aback, as he took a step backwards onto the porch again. "Oh! Rachel," he smiled at his sister, courteous as ever. "You surprised me."

She grinned widely at him as she ushered him back into the house. "I've made dinner—would you like to come try it?" Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she was probably laying it on a little thick, maybe being a tad overwhelming, but he was_ her_ brother and really, why didn't he ever want to spend time with her, or get coffee or do _anything_?

Blaine shook his head, "I'm not super hungry yet—I guess I'll just wait till Dads get home?" He paused for a second, taking in her face. "If that's alright," he added, suddenly uncertain.

Rachel felt herself deflate a bit under his glance. Embarrassed, she waved him off. "No, it's not a big deal—I just wanted to see if the curry was too spicy." She gave him a small smile, and then went to turn back into the kitchen.

"Hey," Blaine said, stopping her by grabbing her hand as she turned, looking at him over her shoulder, desperately hoping to keep her face emotionless. "I'm sure it's delicious. I'm just gonna go do some homework, okay? I'll be down in a bit."

He smiled at her, and despite her frustrations, Rachel could feel the warmth that that look always brought her bubble in her chest a little. The small hope that perhaps she really meant something to her older brother—she could feel wisps of it when he smiled at her like that.

As he turned up the stairs, Rachel began humming to herself, a soft tune to sooth her restlessness. She stopped almost immediately because—wait. Was Blaine _whistling?_


	11. Speechless

**Title: **Unwanted  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Blaine is eleven when his parents kick him out of the house. His social worker manages to find him a new home with a more accepting couple. As Blaine grows up, he deals with the effects of being an unwanted child, and how to feel loved by his new family. Along the way, he meets boy who challenges everything he knows about love and relationships.  
><strong>Author's note: <strong>I am so sorry it has taken so long to get this out. I promise you, this story hasn't and will not be abandoned, and I'm going to try to make updates speedier. I hope you've all stuck with me. If not, that's okay too.

Thanks again to my lovely beta, **Calamus357**, for being so wonderful :) Noel, without you this chapter would have never happened. Also, special thanks to **perchance to wake **who has always faithfully reviewed, and actually messaged me recently to see if the story had been abandoned, because she enjoyed it so much. Readers like you are the ones who make me want to keep going!

As for the song in this chapter... This is similar to the version of the song I pictured in my head. In the story, though, it's on a piano and a little jazzier, but slow and smoky. (This is not me.) Add this link to youtube :) watch?v=wMfiUT19n8A

* * *

><p>It would be an understatement to say that Kurt was surprised when he felt someone behind him on Monday morning while he rummaged through his locker. Slushies were usually performed on a walk-by basis—probably to avoid being placed at the scene of the crime—and his friends hardly ever made it to school early enough to warrant a before-the-bell chat, so there were few people Kurt expected to approach him. But he could unmistakably detect a presence hovering nearby, and when he caught a whiff of somewhat mossy, outdoorsy scent, he started, absolutely stunned cologne, he started, absolutely stunned as he recognized who it was.<p>

He forced himself to continue rifling through his locker, waiting to see if Blaine would approach him, or just stand there over his shoulder without saying anything. He needn't have worried though, because after a moment the older boy slid in, leaning against the locker right next to Kurt's.

"Hey Kurt," he smiled, but his eyes reflected a shyness that Kurt wasn't sure how to process. He'd thought about the older boy all weekend, and the idea that he was here, taking the first opportunity possible to see him after a two-day separation made a teeny part of Kurt hope that he'd been thought about as well. He quickly brushed his thoughts to the cobwebbed corners of his self-esteem, never wanting to raise his hopes about Rachel Berry's mysterious brother.

Still, he couldn't help but grin as he chirped, "Morning!" Realizing his faux pas, he cleared his throat, before adding a more controlled, "What's up?" He tried to keep the exclamation out of his voice with his second sentence, but his efforts were mostly futile. _Why are you so uncool? Calm down, he just said hi. Morning people are annoying, and what if he thinks you are one? _In his typical self-aware manner, he also couldn't help but glanced embarrassedly at the photos hanging in his locker; he wondered if Blaine would think he was odd for the brightly colored drawing of a unicorn and a dolphin that Brittany had given him in math class last week. Then, he'd hung it with pride. Now, he was aware of its entirely juvenile nature. A part of him was ashamed of himself for caring enough to feel embarrassed at all, or for being embarrassed about a thoughtful gift from a friend, but he pushed it aside and focused on the boy in front of him.

If Blaine noticed or had any thoughts about Kurt's locker décor, he gave no indication. Instead, Blaine's fingers fumbled with the strap of his messenger bag for a moment as he stared at the floor, and a full moment passed quickly before he met Kurt's eyes again. "So, on Saturday, I was thinking about our conversation, and then I was listening to my iPod, and this song started playing and I got this idea..." his voice dropped a bit, and Kurt strained to hear the words Blaine had begun to mumble. "And I mean—I thought—maybe—if you were interested in taking a look at what I was working on..."

Kurt's eyes widened as he shut his locker, and leaned against it. Blaine had been thinking about their time together over the weekend? And it was important enough to warrant discussing it with him today? The slam of the locker seemed to startle Blaine, and he cut himself off from what Kurt only vaguely recognized as rambling.

A smile, and a quick, gentle prodding of, "Go on..." from Kurt seemed to snap Blaine out of whatever stupor he was in. The quick, controlled, level-headed version of Blaine Kurt was growing used to was suddenly back, and Kurt instantly regretted breaking up Blaine's hurried ramblings. It was rare to see Blaine anything less than cool and coherent, and Kurt had to admit he enjoyed seeing the other boy a little bit flustered. For a moment, he allowed himself the barest self-indulgent hope that _he _was the reason for Blaine's flurried speech and slightly red cheeks, but he dismissed the idiotic notion quickly with self-reprimanding sniff. He hoped he was coming off more nonchalantly than he was feeling.

"Well," Blaine said, straightening up. "I remembered what you had said about liking Broadway, and then my iPod started playing "Get the Party Started," and I remembered what you said about Pink. And all of a sudden, I had this jazzy, theatrical cover playing in my head. I know you were thinking about working on something to present for sectionals, I was wondering if..."

As Blaine spoke, Kurt could feel his heart beating faster. Not only had Blaine listened to everything he'd said yesterday, but he went home and started _composing_ something with Kurt in mind. _No, you stop that, _his mind reprimanded. _It's not like he was composing it FOR you. It crossed his mind, because your weirdo tastes made him think about how he could make it not so weird. Or something. Stop stop stop stop, oh shit, he's still talking, what was he saying?_

Kurt shook his head, trying to snap himself out of his own doubts and back into the conversation, but as he did so, Blaine's face seemed to fall.

"So, no, then?" he asked, face suddenly polite and distant.

"What?" Kurt asked, immediately regretting his actions. "No, of course that's not a no!" He had no idea what he was not saying no to, but Kurt was positive he wanted to wipe away the courteous and somewhat cold detachment that had settled back onto Blaine's features.

Blaine smiled again, but this time a little more guardedly. His lips remained pursed, and his eyes remained wide, but perhaps a bit hopeful. "So you'll think about performing it? I can play it for you on the piano, and you can make your decision after you've heard it, and I promise I won't be offended or something if you say no, I just thought..."

Kurt waved his hand, effectively cutting Blaine off. It took his brain a moment to catch up to what had just happened, but once it did, he absolutely didn't know what to say. Blaine wanted to collaborate—wanted _Kurt_ to perform his stuff?

In his elation, he was taking too long to respond, he realized, as he watched Blaine's features slip back into uncertainty. His eyebrows were knitted together, and he glanced uncomfortably as other students began streaming through the hallways to their classes. _Oh my god. This is probably taking way longer than he wanted it to—why does he look so uncomfortable? Is he embarrassed to be seen with me?_

He was able to push the thoughts aside momentarily to answer, "Yeah! I mean, yes. Yes, I would love to. When did you want to start?"

For a moment, Kurt wondered if he should behave less eagerly, but he couldn't be bothered to try at the moment. Blaine was smiling at him like he'd just been offered VIP passes to the Grammy's, and Kurt could feel an unfamiliar, though entirely welcome, warmth bubble up in his stomach.

Blaine ducked his head after a moment of Kurt's staring, almost as if he were... embarrassed...? Maybe about his excitement at Kurt's response? Kurt could only hope.

"Well, I was thinking if we want to get it ready to pitch to the glee club for sectionals, maybe today after school?" Kurt broke into a grin. Was it wishful thinking to wonder if he was detecting nervousness from Blaine?

The five minute bell rang then, and whatever trance Kurt seemed to have settled into as he stared at Blaine was suddenly broken. Blaine was looking at him with large, doe eyes, and a hesitant smile, and Kurt realized that once again, he had taken his time responding.

"That sounds perfect. Meet you after glee?" Blaine offered him an enthusiastic nod—well, enthusiastic for Blaine. If Kurt had been the type to wink, and if he had had any indication that Blaine was gay, maybe he would have. But he wasn't, and he didn't, so instead he smiled again, and threw his bag over his shoulder. "See you then."

* * *

><p>After the third time Mercedes told him to stop jangling his knee behind her desk, Kurt realized just how anxious he was feeling. Their coffee plans had been one thing—Blaine was a polite sort, and had merely been expressing his gratitude—but their plans now felt somehow more intimate. Blaine was going to be arranging a song, with Kurt in mind. He picked a song thinking about Kurt. The song was <em>for Kurt.<em>

_Stop. Stop that right now. _In addition to his restless legs, he also found himself mentally berating himself far more often than usual.

"Kurt?" Mrs. Beauchard, his History teacher had called on him, as he struggled to recall what she had just been talking about. Kurt wasn't usually one with his head in the clouds, and he felt his face heat up at being caught unawares.

A quick glance at the board reminded him that they had been discussing the switch to the gold standard during the early 1900s, but he couldn't for the life of him remember the specifics of the last five minutes. "Um..." He struggled for words. "I have no idea."

She awarded him a pointed look, but didn't say anything else. He figured his usual attentiveness gave him a free pass, and slunk his shoulders further down.

"What is up with you today?" Mercedes whispered slightly accusingly over her shoulder.

_You'd never believe me, _Kurt thought.

* * *

><p>By the end of the day, the ants in Kurt's pants had built a colony, and he jumped out of his seat the moment the bell began to ring. He wasn't sure if he was looking forward to his second meeting with Blaine, or dreading it.<p>

Like the day before, he wanted to stall as long as possible before trudging to glee. The less time he had with Rachel prior to Mr. Schue arriving, the less chance there was to enquire about his once-again startling after school plans. There were no surprise visits from Blaine today, either, to which he felt both pleased and dismayed. It at least meant that he managed to walk in just a footstep behind their teacher—no time for small talk with his best friend.

His timing was on point today, as he managed to walk in just a few paces after Mr. Schue—close enough to still be considerate of the time, but late enough to avoid any chattering. Blaine was already seated at the piano when he walked in, but Kurt did his best not to glance in his direction. As Mr. Schue began to speak, Kurt realized, though, his best wasn't very good at all. The third time he snuck a peak at Blaine, he, to his extreme and utter humiliation, caught the boy's eye.

_Does he know I've been staring at him? Oh god, he's going to think I'm obsessed with him, like they thought I was obsessed with Sam. They'll talk him out of working with me, and then I'll have to plan a whole new solo number, just like I had to for Le Jazz Hot—who has time for costume designing like that anymore? Oh my god, I'm STILL LOOKING AT HIM. Look away! Look away! Maybe I can make it look like I was just staring disinterestedly into space. _

Kurt shook his head, snapping himself out of it, hoping that Blaine would just think he had a mental impediment and couldn't help his staring.

If someone were to ask him what had been going on in glee since his performance last week, Kurt would have literally no idea what to say. Mr. Schue's words were not even going in one ear and out they other; rather, they were floating boundlessly around him, never bothering to permeate into his body in the first place. But he could certainly tell them the number of times Blaine caught him staring, or the number of times Rachel offered a stilted cough, in attempts to get Kurt's attention.

Kurt wasn't very proud of either.

When at long last, Mr. Shuester clapped his hands together in dismissal, Kurt felt his limbs freeze up. Should he address his odd behavior with Rachel, or even Mercedes? Should he wait until everyone left to approach Blaine?

Blaine, however, made Kurt's dilemma irrelevant, as he settled the dispute in Kurt's head with a fluid explanation to his sister as she approached him—"Kurt and I are just going to start testing some arrangements today." He indicated to the piano with his chin.

Rachel, similar to yesterday, looked mildly put out, but offered little argument. She sniffed in a somewhat indignant manner in Kurt's direction, and offered Blaine a clipped, "See you at home," before turning on her heel and walking out of the room.

As everyone filed out of the room, Kurt hunched himself over his backpack pretending to be fascinated with its contents as he rearranged them. A moment passed after Artie, the last to leave, had finally wheeled out, when Kurt heard Blaine clear his throat politely.

"So..." Blaine started, as Kurt slowly turned to face him. Blaine was already seated at the piano, wiggling his fingers over the keyboard quickly as he waited for Kurt to acknowledge him. _Is he nervous about playing something he arranged? Or nervous to be playing for me? Or both?_

"So, I'm really excited to hear this!" Kurt, once again, winced at the chipperness in his voice, but forced his anxiety back into the pit of his stomach for a moment to focus his energy on his current interaction with the object of his obsessions.

Blaine, oblivious to Kurt's apparently constant state of self-depreciation, grinned widely as his eyes found Kurt's. He ran a hand over his gelled hair, and cleared his throat once again.

"It's not... um. It's not perfect. I still have to work out some kinks. But feel free to jump in wherever you see fit. I mean, if you want."

His eyes grew focused, and Kurt watched in awe as Blaine's fingers glided effortlessly over the ivory keys. Every other times Kurt had seen him play, it had been with other people around, with a singer, with a generic version of generic songs that had no consequence. This, watching Blaine play a song he took the time to organize all on his own, somehow felt strangely intimate. This was also the first occasion that Kurt felt comfortable enough to just _watch _Blaine play—like for the first time since they'd met, it was actually okay, and even expected, for him to stare. Kurt took in everything about his stance—his furrowed, concentrated brow, and his warm, but hardened-with-focus eyes. His shoulders were straight, posture excellent, and his arms moved swiftly and gracefully. Blaine was a true pianist. A true artist.

And just then, as the chorus hit, Kurt understood where the song was going—the tone Blaine had given it, the tempo, and brassiness he managed to create even on a piano. It was unlike anything he'd ever heard for this song, and Kurt could feel the goosebumps forming on his skin as he listened.

By the second verse, Kurt found his voice. A part of him hated having to sing along, would rather have just sat and listened to Blaine play, but he'd been asked. And he was still functioning under the pretenses that they were actually working on something for sectionals.

As his voice joined Blaine's instrumentals, Blaine's concentration appeared to break for just the briefest second, and the eyes that had just been so focused upon his keys suddenly met Kurt's. They were wide, and the barest hint of a smile was gracing Blaine's lips.

In that moment, Kurt Hummel would swear he forgot his own name.


End file.
